Why you're the way you are
by Oly Chic
Summary: Just because someone's emotionally stable doesn't mean they're balanced. Few of the Autobots learn that in the wake of a Decepticon attack. Eventual PxJ slash.
1. Info

**I hate long and repetitive author notes at the beginning of chapters. Instead, I'm just gonna throw it all right here so its outta the way.** Any updates (i.e. warnings) will be listed here, but I will note it in the chapter once I figure it out. This way you don't have to hunt anything down, like time units.

What you actually need to know:  
Some chapters will take place in the present, while others will take place in the past. To differentiate between these, the chapters will be marked as follows:

'Present' Chapters: Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, etc  
'Past' Chapters: Ch A, Ch B, Ch C, etc

Human-equivalent ages will be listed in 'past' chapters. So you'll see something like "Prowl – '14'." Just means Prowl's whatever age a Cybertronian would be that's equivalent to a 14 year old human.

Other Stuff:  
"Blah" – Talking  
'_Blah_' – Thinking  
::Blah:: - Comm. talking

Astrosecond – 0.489 seconds  
Breem – 8.3 minutes  
Joor – Approximately 1 hour  
Orn – 1 (Cybertronian) day. Also used to denote Earth days cuz I like to keep things simple  
Decaorn – 10 days  
Vorn – 83 years

Rating: T (formally 'M.' My beta and I discussed what typically qualifies as 'M' these days in the fandom and decided this isn't it. Whether or not you agree with that is entirely up to you)

Why: Eventual slash, angst, Cybertronian swearing, occasional human swearing, violence, and possible interface. The last one I'm really not sure if it'll happen here or if it'll be a separate thing. 

Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Juniper, or Conex (the real life stuff, not the characters Juniper or Conex).


	2. Ch 1

_Hopefully I've worked it all out, but I swear this is NOT crack if the opening still reads like it. But it had to be something a little over the line…_

_

* * *

_

Taking a moment to prepare himself, Prowl slowly entered his office, a dim light pouring in from the hallway. There, sitting alone in front of him as if to cheerfully say "hi honey, welcome home," was the datapad he'd been warned about only moments ago. Walking around his desk until he reached his chair, Prowl eyed the datapad suspiciously, before sitting down and begrudgingly begin reading.

By the time Prowl reached the end he was staring at the datapad, his CPU dangerously close to completely locking up. To prevent his CPU from locking Prowl forced his attention onto the possibilities of how what he was reading wasn't real. A fake report, Primus willing? Prowl double-checked the signature again but it still read "Ironhide," ruining his hopes. Perhaps his optic sensors were on the fritz and he needed to reboot his optics? Nope; the report still read the same. Maybe he really had let his habits of getting little recharge or energon go too far and now he was hallucinating? Once again, no – his levels were only a little low.

Prowl groaned, silently cursing his job. _'He didn't. Even he's not this depraved.'_

_'Yup, he is and yes he did!'_ Chirped a merry little voice in his head (sounding suspiciously like Jazz).

_'No, he didn't.'_

_'Yes. He. Did.' Growled _the Jazz-like voice, displeased with Prowl's refusal.

Prowl signed, wondering if maybe it was his sanity that was fritzing. Some days he wished he could pretend he didn't get the report or comm in time informing him that Ratchet was about to permanently deactivate at least one twin. Then he could claim he didn't have time to stop it and then this report would have never come into existence, preventing him from ever questioning his sanity. Stiffening another groan, Prowl mentally prepared himself. '_Time to deal with the situation._'

He really didn't want to. If there was going to be any single incident outside of a battle that'd cause him to have a complete mental breakdown, this just might be it.

/-/

Prowl entered the brig to find Sideswipe lounging against one wall while bouncing a small pink rubber ball off the other wall. Where he got that, Prowl couldn't care less right now. Upon hearing someone enter Sideswipe turned and saw Prowl, greeting him with the warmest smile he had. "Hiya, Prowl!" His voice could only be described as disgustingly cheery.

Momentarily struggled with the urge to hit him, Prowl chose to cut to the chase instead. "Sideswipe, do you want to explain your actions?"

"Nope."

Prowl narrowed his optics, pressing on despite his own personal reluctance. "According to the report, you dressed yourself up to appear like a… bare… human while darting around throwing products at other Autobots, covered with a chemical from Wheeljack's lab." The 'bare human' part was perhaps the most visually disturbing part because Sideswipe didn't fail at some of the details. Thank Primus most Autobots didn't know what the taupe-colored chemical had to do with anything.

Sideswipe shrugged. "Wasn't me."

Again resisting the urge to harm Sideswipe, Prowl stared. "Excuse me? It was clearly _your_ voice gleefully shouting about 'streaking,' not your brother's. And Ironhide had the joy of stopping you." Ironhide's report had been very terse, to put it mildly. Onlookers had a few things to say about Ironhide wrestling a "naked" Sideswipe down from behind.

Sideswipe stared back, confusion clouding his face. "No, wasn't me. Think about it – a streaking mech? Clearly had to be Sunstreaker. I mean, didn't you ever wonder why he'd gotten that name?"

"Please, enlighten me."

" 'Cuz he loved bathing nude in the sunlight!" Sideswipe beamed almost proudly, as if he'd figured out the point of life.

Taking a slow deep breath, Prowl struggled for almost a whole breem to keep his logic circuits from locking up. Prowl was not going to explain how absurd that was since they had no sense of nudity like the humans did. He knew Sideswipe wasn't stupid or a terrible liar; he was just trying to crash Prowl's CPU. If the conversation continued on in this direction it was likely he'd get his wish.

Moving on, he addressed the other awful part of the situation. "You do realize the error in using a stolen chemical from Wheeljack's lab?"

Sideswipe at least had the decency to look down at that. "Do now."

Yes, they _all _knew now. After the chemical landed on a mech it instantly melted from the thermal energy and attached to them. When they yanked off whatever the chemical was attached to it caused a small explosion… covering them and any nearby walls in taupe goo and metal fragments. All the while mildly damaging the armor it was originally attached to so the substance really got in there. Better yet, they discovered it hardened in less than a breem making it impossible to wash off, therefore requiring Ratchet's _happy_ assistance.

Prowl's patience had finally worn through. He wanted this day over and decided that Sideswipe was going to suffer just as much as everyone else. "You are sentenced to cleaning the chemical off all the surfaces, assisting with their repairs and painting, cleaning Ratchet's tools free of the chemical, and you're his for the next decaorn as part of your double shifts."

Sideswipe's mouth dropped, completely flabbergasted. "Prowl, that's beyond unfair! Especially since – hey, how did Ratchet's tools get covered in it?"

"… Prying it off of the others."

"Ohh…" Sideswipe looked a little worried about that. "How long did that take?"

"I'll let you know when he's finally done."

_Now _Sideswipe looked scared. Which was just dandy as far as Prowl was concerned. Sideswipe had been in the brig for almost a full day now so he could only imagine Ratchet's wrath of spending a day prying something meant to look like waste product from various Autobots and still not finish in a day.

Prowl really wanted to pretend he wouldn't get the inevitable 'Ratchet's going to murder Sideswipe!' comm, but he knew the sight would be just too good to pass.

/-/

Prowl rubbed his optics after returning to his desk. Completely pointless for a transformer, but he could have sworn his optics were hurting all the same from inspecting the damaged walls. He only now learned about Sideswipe's creative endeavors because he'd just finished his long and difficult outdoor patrol involving things like mud, ditch, hail, and winds. This had been "the icing on his cake," as the humans put it. These past several weeks had been strenuous enough – and not because of evil Decepticon plots, meetings, or bureaucracy issues. No, Prowl found himself _wishing_ the Decepticons would finally carry out whatever crazed and ultimately inane plan they usually came up with. Instead, these past several weeks had proven difficult because of the horrible weather and complete dead silence on their enemy's side. Only outdoor patrols deemed absolutely necessary were carried out because of the weather and resultant terrain conditions made traveling virtually impossible. No one else went out – not even Hound or Trailbreaker. They had tried of course, and the end results had come rather swiftly. The abnormally long silence from the Decepticons only helped further wear down the Autobots' nerves with each passing day, leaving the base filled with tension and stir crazy bots – a dangerous combo.

As Prowl considered various ideas about how he could legally lock everyone not on duty in their quarters, Jazz walked in with a light chuckle. Looking up, Prowl gave him a deadpan look. "I suppose you found the Sideswipe situation hilarious."

Jazz grinned, snapping his fingers. "Well of course. It's just what we need!"

"Soldiers covered in hardened amorphous chemicals?"

"Well, no… but they needed to blow off some steam. Sideswipe's little stunt definitely provided that. And now Ratchet has one sole person to focus all his anger on instead of whoever crosses his path!" Jazz said cheerfully. He hadn't been one of the direct victims, but he'd been off to the side when one of the little explosions went off, delivering him a 'glancing blow'. Normally he'd be angry just like everyone else, but seeing so many bots either laughing hysterically or uniting together against one foe instead of each other had dissolved his anger leaving him more relieved than anything else.

"While I'd love to continue on about this, I do have some important business stuff to discuss." Jazz handed him a datapad.

Prowl brightened as soon as he saw the datapad but managed to keep a calm appearance. He'd been feeling a little off thanks to this last week really starting to drain him. It'd been already difficult keeping to his usual ways, but this Sideswipe incident pushed his limits. He was a little disturbed by his own behavior earlier regarding his first discovery of Sideswipe's prank but chose to focus on the datapad instead.

Jazz knew Prowl needed a break – slag that, a vacation. His usually stoic and composed friend was definitely struggling these last couple of orns with their own army's indoor activities. That's why he brought this particular datapad to his best friend – so Prowl could have some sense of normalcy, if not a break from the insanity surrounding them. Granted they were for Prowl anyways, but they were marked low on the priority list and the "mishaps" around the Ark of late superseded them (i.e. someone stabbing Cliffjumper in the servos).

"We got some Intel suggestin' the majority of Megatron's forces are on Cybertron. There's no clear evidence and some of its sketchy, but there's an area showin' unusual Decepticon activity on the scans. They also recovered injured Autobot but there was a battle not too far from the spot they found him so we don't know yet if his injuries were caused by the battle or the Decepticon activity. Report says the 'bot should be repaired 'nough for any questions in a couple of orns if ya have any."

Prowl studied the datapad, noting the nearly two decaorn-old date. "Why would the Decepticons be in that area? Those particular catacombs were nearly completely destroyed vorns ago."

Jazz shrugged, dismissing it with his hand. "Who knows what the Decepticons are thinking? For all we know, they're just Decepticon scavengers."

Prowl looked at him for a moment before glancing back at the pads. "I'll look into it." He set down the datapad and began working on it – only to have a black hand come down, blocking him from doing any work.

"Oh no, you're not. You need ta take a break and refuel." Prowl sighed; he knew he wouldn't win this battle when Jazz used that tone.

"Alright, but only for a few breems."

/-/

Jazz and Prowl spent the few breems drinking energon and talking in the rec room. Mirage came up and offered Prowl a gentle smile before asking Prowl if he was alright, startling Prowl.

"Yes, why?"

"Well," Mirage hesitated, "it's just some of us are concerned after the whole Sideswipe thing."

Prowl grimaced, unable to completely hide his reaction at being reminded about his behavior when he first heard about Sideswipe's prank. Coming in from patrol (or Pit, whichever), Mirage and several other Autobots ran up to him, livid about what Sideswipe's antics. When Prowl got as much detail as he could from them, he snarled and stormed off to his office with a few choice words. Okay, he hadn't been fine then, but he did calm down by the time he reached his office. In his defense he was exhausted with the string of bad luck he was having, but that didn't stop him from being embarrassed by his behavior. He _never_ behaved or spoke like that. Now that Mirage had brought it up, Prowl noticed all the Autobots watching him, whispering amongst themselves. Great. Of all the things to make him snap, it had to be Sideswipe. He was never going to live this down.

Jazz had been one of the "lucky" few to see it, but only by accident. He'd been at the entrance trying to cheer up Hound, who was depressed about the lack of outdoor activities. It was understandable why Prowl "lost it" (although no one would think twice if it was anyone else) – there was so much crap going on no one was even really fazed by Cliffjumper's attack. Normally, an Autobot army would never behave like this, but Earth had definitely 'laxed a majority of the mechs' professionalism and it was coming out now in spades. Jazz found himself actually disappointed in them. Perhaps he should just lock them all up the recreational room and let Ironhide and Ratchet knock them back into order.

But right now Jazz was focused on trying to help his friend unwind. Mirage's concern, while well intentioned, was a step in the wrong direction. Gently, Jazz spoke up to Mirage, "Thanks fer the concern, but Prowl's fine." Jazz glanced off to the side, seeing a fretful Bluestreak bee-lining it straight towards them. Last thing Prowl needed right now was a handful of frantic questions about whether or not he was okay and did he need to talk. "Why don't you help calm down Bluestreak?"

Mirage nodded and intercepted Bluestreak, pulling him to the side. Whatever he said worked because Bluestreak actually left Prowl alone, choosing instead to intently watching him off from the side, unnerving even Jazz a little.

Prowl check his internal chronometer before looking at Jazz. "I need to deal with the datapad."

Holding Prowl's gaze for a moment, Jazz slowly nodded. "Okay, Prowl. Just remember to recharge soon, okay?"

His best friend promised to do so before getting up and leaving.

/-/

Prowl spent the last several of joors analyzing the datapad and writing up his proposals, along with other reports. There really wasn't much to go on regarding the datapad Jazz gave him and it wouldn't have taken this long if his processor wasn't also working on how to handle the situation he'd created for himself. He pushed aside his concerns for himself, focusing on regaining his stature. He needed to stay away from the others more so now. Normally that wasn't a problem since almost no one except Prime, Jazz, and his brothers came by for anything beyond discipline and tactical issues, but the Ark had become cramped with everyone stuck inside. Prowl couldn't behave like that – it was a failure as officer. Emotions weren't his thing for a reason. They got in his way with the nature of his job. And besides…

Prowl pushed the thought aside. He really did need a break and recharging was the best way to spend it. He left his office, taking the less traveled hallways to his quarters.

As he pasted on of the intersections, he could hear a couple Autobots talking, just outside of his view. Hearing his name mentioned he stopped.

"Primus, can you believe the way Prowl just lost it? Damn, I wish I'd seen that!" someone laughed. That sounded like Slingshot.

Another voice snickered. "Don't worry; I heard someone plans to download it from their optics and audio sensors for those who missed it. Said the image of Prowl looking murderous alone was good enough to go through the trouble, let alone the few curse words he let out." Air Raid.

"Good," Slingshot said, "makes you wonder though about Prowl. I mean, he doesn't even raise his voice and here he goes practically on a rampage!"

"No shit," laughed Air Raid, "guess that stone-cold mech's emotion circuits finally 'woke up.' Must mean we're _that _close to making him join the loony bin."

Slingshot snorted. "Yeah, probably 'cuz he doesn't know how to handle his emotion circuits. Probably hasn't used them since what, his early sparkling days?"

"Probably," Air Raid snickered again.

Prowl quietly walked away after that, idly wondering why a transformer would snort. He didn't want to think about their little conversation, choosing instead to retreat into himself and focus on those 'cold, emotionless things' and not about the mockery others were making out of him or the overall opinion of him from his own team.

He made it back to his quarters without further incidents, but he couldn't shake the small chill in his spark. Entering his quarters, he tidied everything up before updating his personal daily logs. Everything seemed to happen as if he was on autopilot, recording about the new information from Cybertron, other purely-tactical datapads, and his patrol. He reframed from recording anything else. When he finished, Prowl sat there staring at a blank screen, not really thinking. The empty feeling in his spark was drawing in what little attention he could muster.

Without giving it any real thought, Prowl opened one of his locked drawers and pulled out an old hologram. He hadn't looked at this particular one in a vorn, yet somehow there was only slight damage after all this time. This picture was almost as old as him. A mech could tell because it showed a very young him with his creators.

Prowl stared at the black and grey mech standing slight apart, absently touching the mech's face, recalling those "early sparkling days" and the opinion back then about his emotion circuits.

_

* * *

_

_Prowl's kinda ruff on himself, don'cha think?  
Hope the Sideswipe thing didn't disturb you too bad… ._


	3. Ch A

_Charger is fairly androgynous, but somewhat mommy-like. That's pretty much the only reason why Charger's a femme._

Prowl – "2.5," barely pre-war

* * *

His crystal-green ball rolled slowly towards the pins set up on his creators' balcony overlooking Praxus. Prowl tensed up, watching the ball approach… the left front 'guard' pin. Irritated, Prowl snatched his ball and returned to his original position, glaring at the offending pin. He rolled the ball around a little until it was aligned with the left _middle_ pin before pushing it again. This time the ball did bounce of the middle pin, only to spin into the middle right pin and stop. Stupid ball.

Charger chuckled from inside the door, watching her baby-blue painted sparkling trying hard to play Bowlpin. Her spark fluttered like every other time at the sight of her Prowl leaning against the ball, trying to align it with a pin using his whole body. Almost no sparking this young would attempt the game, but that never stopped Prowl when it came to puzzles and strategy games. But as the breems went on, her sparkling's frustration was quickly growing apparent. In fact, he was so focused and frustrated he hadn't even noticed her presence yet. Charger walked over and placed a comforting hand on her sparkling's shoulder before taking the ball. "Would you like some help, sweetspark?" Prowl looked at her, as if to consider her offer, before nodding.

Charger led Prowl back to his original spot. Kneeling down, she pulled Prowl between her reddish-orange and brown arms before giving him the ball. "Okay now, Prowl, noticed how the pathway defined by the 'guard' pins zigzags before opening up at the regular pins?" Prowl nodded, a little frown on his face as he listened, eliciting a grin from Charger before she continued on. "You need to bounce it off of the first middle pin so it hits the second middle pin at the right angle with the right amount of force so…" Charger pushed the ball, releasing it from both their hands. The ball bounced off the left middle pin, off the right middle pin, traveling through the mouth and into the first regular pin. It went down, knocking down the rest of the regular pins.

Prowl jumped up, clasping his hands together in delight. While Prowl was considered too young for this game it was still meant for sparklings. After all, when do sparklings not like knocking things down? The 'guard' pins defining the path just make it a little more challenging.

Together they set back up the regular pins before starting over. Charger explained the game a little more thoroughly before helping Prowl toss the ball a couple more times. Getting ready to toss it a third time, Charger suddenly felt optics burning into her back.

'_Oh, goodie_,' Charger thought warily, '_Exactly how I was hoping this day would go._' Outwardly, she gave Prowl a reassuring smile. "Prowl, sweetspark, why don't you practice on your own for a little bit, okay?"

Prowl looked up at her curiously before looking behind them. '_Oh…_' Prowl nodded, knowing not to protest even though he really wanted to keep playing with his creator.

Charger stood up and turned to face her neutrally-colored mate, following suit as he moved inside, closing the glass door behind her. Charger smiled as kindly as she could before asking how his day was.

Blacksmoke wasn't having it. He jerked his head towards the door at their sparkling. They could see Prowl crouched over on his ball eyeing the 'guard' pins, getting ready to make his move. "Why do you _insist_ on teaching him those strategy games?"

"He likes them. And he's good at them so I don't see a problem."

"It's not what he should be learning," the Enforcer growled, angry that his mate still refused to see his side. "He _should_ be learning games that increase his hand-optic coordination skills and more mech-like games, not these… these pansy-aft 'strategy' games."

Charger clenched her jaw tight, fighting back her anger. Her mate had never been like this until Prowl started showing interest in puzzles over his G.I. Jax toys. She chose to support her lovely creation's interests, whereas Blacksmoke had clearly picked a different route. "Look, I've started including strategy games with some form of 'ooh, I destroyed something!' or hand-optic coordination aspects to it as a middle ground, but if you can't deal with that then go frag yourself." Maybe she hadn't held back all her anger as well as she thought.

Snarling back, Blacksmoke snapped, "A _few_ games amongst the many doesn't make a difference. He rarely plays with the other sparklings, and when he does he's usually the worst because you _aren't_ pushing him to be better!"

"I _am_ pushing him to be better! At what _he_ enjoys. Unlike you, who pushes him to be better at what _you _enjoy. He doesn't like playing with others because you keep pushing him into those stupid games he's not skilled at, and it makes him feel more insecure when he's around other sparklings!"

"Oh and how exactly is that?"

"Because standing around unsure what to do just feeds into his insecurity with others."

"That's your answer for everything," Blacksmoke sneered, "'his feelings'. How this and that affects '_his feelings'_. Before you know it, we'll have some emotional grownup sparkling on our hand with the way you coddle him! And then you know what'll happen? He'll get his aft pounded in because he'll be a pathetic Enforcer. He won't be able to handle any situation because his emotions will get in the way!"

"Who says he has to be an Enforcer like you? Why can't he pick what he wants?"

/-

Prowl huddled over the ball, not really paying any attention to the game anymore. He never mentioned it to his creators how one of his feeble attempts at a game his sparker approved failed horrible, damaging the balcony door. Since then the door never quite clicked shut, leaving it slightly ajar towards the bottom. He could hear his creators arguing again over him and it always left him feeling upset and like a failure. His sparker was rarely happy with him no matter how hard Prowl tried.

Thing was, whenever his sparker was displeased with him or his creators argued, they never raised their voice. Instead they actually _lowered_ their voice. Like now. Prowl knew what those voices meant, and it frightened him a little. His creators' arguments over him had increased lately and he knew it stemmed from his repeated failures to please his sparker. He had tried countless times but he just wasn't any good at those games. Not like the other sparklings.

Leaving his ball, Prowl quietly walked over to the corner outside their view and curled up, his doorwings drooping a little. He didn't like making them upset. He promised himself he'd do a good job tomorrow.

/-/

Feeling a little uneasy that following afternoon, Prowl glanced around nervously at the other sparklings. Most were slightly bigger than him. He felt his sparker tug on his hand and Prowl quickly followed him. He couldn't keep his optics forward though, noticing how many additional sparklings there were on the playground than normally.

Blacksmoke stopped when he reached the other adult mechs and femmes, causing Prowl to walk right into his leg. Glancing down he made sure Prowl was okay. Once satisfied, he turned towards his co-worker and friend, Juniper.

"Hey ya," Juniper greeted easily, "see you got Prowl fer the day."

"Yeah, Charger needed to cover a shift."

"Oh right, 'cuz it'd be horrible if Air Traffic Control was down one little flight strategist assistant," Juniper muttered sarcastically. Blacksmoke 'harrumphed' in agreement before Juniper continued on, this time talking to Blacksmoke's sparkling. "Hey Prowl! How's it going, little buddy?"

"… Okay." While Juniper generally liked the sparkling, Prowl was a little too timid for his tastes. Still, that didn't stop him from trying to encourage the sparkling to play with his own sparkling. Juniper pointed over towards one section of the playground. "Why don't you go play with Snapclip?" Prowl nodded before running off towards Juniper's sparkling. "Jeez, Blacksmoke, does Prowl look like Charger or what?"

Blacksmoke watched his son take off, before answering, "Yeah, he does have Charger's structure that's for sure. I'm not too particularly pleased with the doorwings; those will be more of a weakness on an Enforcer than anything else."

"He's also kinda timid, just like Charger."

A harsh laugh barked out from Blacksmoke before he gave Juniper a wryly grin. "I wouldn't call Charger timid. Prone to emotional outbursts? Sure, but definitely not timid. Seeing what 'we' decided on Prowl's structure and paint color could've told you that."

Juniper laughed. "Yeah, okay. At any rate, some of the other mechs and femmes were thinking about teaching the sparklings dodgeball in about a joor."

Although Blacksmoke hid it he was concerned. Prowl playing simple chase games without decent basic coordination skills was one thing, but dodgeball was an entirely different matter. It would be nice if Prowl could play such a game – it'd help build his character and skills up to be an Enforcer – without Blacksmoke having to worry because his son can't take care of himself in simple situations. Annoyed, it also didn't escape his attention that he was worried about Prowl playing a simple game when the other creators weren't.

Sensing his friend's unease, Juniper reassured him there wasn't any chance of Prowl getting harmed. "Don't worry, the floor mats and balls are those new soft spongy materials. Wouldn't even hurt a turbofox. Not to mention we're not giving them that many balls to begin with anyways."

Surely his sparkling could handle that. "Well, alright then. Need any help setting it up?"

/-/

Prowl had failed. His self-made promise was broken because he had completely and utterly failed at the game. The dark apprehensive look in Blacksmoke's face as he pulled Prowl along told him his sparker thought along the same lines.

Playing with others was difficult enough. He was always one of the slowest, gawkiest sparklings in the game and he knew it. He'd try but his doubts always got the best of him, giving the other sparklings something to tease him about. But now those same sparklings got to pelt him with balls. They didn't hurt but Prowl couldn't dodge so he was almost never in. Towards the end he was finally in long enough to throw a ball at another sparkling. He missed and the angry sparkling, already bigger and older, got his friends in to attack him all at once. The spongy balls actually managed to knock him over, with a resounding "smack!" His aft hurt a little.

After the game, Blacksmoke yanked Prowl up and they left in silence. Prowl knew the silence meant his sparker was too upset with him to trust voicing his thoughts. It would come though.

They were about halfway home when Blacksmoke finally spoke. "How did you trip over your own peds when you were running away?"

Prowl looked to the ground doorwings slightly droopy. "Tried dodging and running. Couldn't do it," he mumbled, vocal processor still not quite correctly pronouncing all the letters.

Looking at his sparkling, Blacksmoke noticed his droopy doorwings. "Pull those doorwings up. A real Enforcer would never wear their emotions on the outside like that," he scolded.

Prowl instantly drew both his doorwings and shoulders high up. It hurt his back a little, but he wasn't going to let his sparker down again. His sparker continued to lecture him on the importance of "proper Enforcer stances" and the training games they'd play when they got back.

When their building was finally in sight, Prowl's spirits finally perked up a bit. Soon he'd get to see his carrier because she said she'd be home a few joors after they got back. Feeling better, Prowl watched the building slowly grow with a little skip in each step.

"Hey, Blacksmoke!"

They both stopped and turned around, seeing Juniper running up. Prowl was instantly irritated (he wanted to be home!) but kept his face and doorwings from showing it.

Blacksmoke greeted Juniper when he reached them. "What brings you out to this district?"

Juniper jerked his thumb back towards the direction of their job station, "Ran into 'Lift. Told me he was goin' in cuz there's been a rebel development in the commercial district."

Blacksmoke instantly tensed up. "Exactly how developed of a development are we talking?"

Juniper grinned. "Like we could really nail a few of those slagheads if we pull off an attack just right."

"And when's that?"

"Dunno. That's why a bunch of us are going down there in case the order comes soon."

Blacksmoke looked down at his sparkling, into his curious optics. On one hand he could spend time with his son, improving his coordination skills. On the other hand, he was being presented with an opportunity to protect his city and hurt the rebel alliance working against good civilians.

Sighing, he looked back at Juniper. "I can't leave Prowl home alone. Charger won't be back for three more joors."

"Not a problem," Juniper dismissed with his right hand, "M' mate and sparkling are getting some energon goodies near the station. He'd be glad to watch Prowl for you."

"Alright, I'll let Charger know. Let's move quickly."

/-/

Juniper's home was a lot more decorated and luxurious than his own. Of course, anyone who knew Juniper's mate would expect that. It was also spacious, but that was another one of his mate's things. Whereas Juniper's mate thought life was about living, Blacksmoke thought life was about serving. Just before Prowl's creation he moved the entire family into a comfortable but minimal living environment because he felt anything else was a waste of time and money better spent. Times like these Prowl found himself alone, studying all the shinny and unusual things he'd never seen or touched before. Snapclip would always wind up wondering off to play with his carrier, his fascination with the objects inside the home long gone giving Prowl plenty of time to think and play with his new environment.

Normally Prowl would be ecstatic to study these unusual materials underneath his fingertips or stare at the strange images before him, but his joy was dampened by thoughts of his sparker. Why didn't his sparker like him more? They use to spend a lot of time together but now his sparker seemed unhappy at the mere sight of him. Was it because of his nervousness, or his tendency to be the worse sparkling in the game? Or was it because Prowl wasn't nearly as interested in the things his sparker cared for?

Right now Prowl felt like his inability to get over his emotions was the cause of his sparker's unhappiness with him. If he stopped letting his fear get to him, he could probably be a better player. He could do more things his sparker was interested in if Prowl put more attention into them instead of getting distracted by some new puzzle.

Prowl sat down, pulling his legs up to his chest. Yes, maybe if he did all those things his sparker would finally like him and they could play again.

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_Okay, I know you would never_ _teach a 2 year old dodgeball, but these are robots with an entirely different culture, so I think I can get away with it. Plus Blacksmoke is basically a Captain America - wannabe with bad family skills._

_Bowlpin was essentially bowling + pinball. _

_FYI, I'm planning to post two chapters for the next update, so let me know what you think! :)_


	4. Ch 2

_I dunno how universal this is, but 2100 (2100 hours) means 9 p.m._

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Loud rapid knocking brought Prowl's attention to his office door. Whoever was on the other side must have been there a while from the sound of it. Prowl didn't realize how much focus and energy he was putting in to keep all his thoughts exclusively about work and not personal problems. Apparently it was enough because whoever was on the other side resorted to nearly smashing the door. Prowl smoothed his pensive facial expression before hitting the open door button. Prime walked in, puzzlement clear is his voice. "Prowl? Since when do you keep the door locked during your 'open office hours?'"

"Since I need to get some work done and there seems to be someone loud in these halls."

Optimus chuckled, knowing full well who he was insinuating with Blades and Ironhide arguing a few doors down. He'd only asked because he was concerned that his team's response to yesterday's mishaps might have gotten to Prowl, but so far he seemed _fairly_ normal. Most mechs wouldn't even entertain the notion that the stoic tactician could be bothered, but Prime knew Prowl long enough to recognize how far that was from the truth. When it came to his team's view of him as an officer, Prowl cared deeply. He may not show it like Jazz or Ironhide, but that didn't mean Prowl was affected any less.

Typically Prowl's door was unlocked during this joor in case anyone had concerns they wanted to ask or bring to his attention. The small change in his work schedule was a sign he was at least a little affected. Opting out for once to remove his rarely utilized "open office hours" was hardly any reason for alarm as far as Prime was concerned, considering it was pretty mild for Prowl. In the past when something was troubling Prowl he'd drown himself in work until he collapsed into stasis lock. Clearly this wasn't the same pattern as he appeared well energized. Still, Prowl relied heavily on his routines, so the subtle deviation in his daily structure was a sign of something.

"I'm sorry about my delay, although I'm curious why you didn't override the doorlock." Prowl inquired.

"I could hear you typing away. Since you were obviously fine, I didn't want to interrupt you over a bit of impatience." Actually, it was more that Prime didn't want to see _what_ he was interrupting. The last time he overrode Prowl's doorlock he found a certain saboteur wrestling Prowl away from his console. He stopped after the image of Jazz straddling a wriggling pinned Prowl was seared into his processor. When it happened, they both immediately separated after Prime drew their attention to his presence, and Prowl hastily explained that Jazz had gotten a little carried away getting Prowl away from work since _he_ felt like Prowl was working himself nearly into stasis. And his arms were pinned down so Jazz could take away the datapad Prowl tried to hide. Still, Prime didn't care to see a repeat performance. He'd been almost certain the only reason him hitting the door like that went unnoticed was something like that.

"Now, I understand there's been a report regarding potential activity on Cybertron from Megatron's forces?"

"Yes," Prowl nodded as he pulled out the datapad given to him yesterday with an additional pad, "but there isn't much reliable information. I've written up my analysis of the report and possibilities for Megatron or his forces to be in that area along with tactical suggestions, but there isn't much I can do past that."

Taking both datapads from Prowl, Optimus looked over them. Prime was disappointed; he really hoped for something more concrete so he could stop whatever scheme Megatron had. Whatever this is, there wasn't anything known to them at that location to warrant Megatron's interest. Knowing him, it was more likely a trick meant to divide the Autobots so they wouldn't be able to defend themselves against an attack. Until more evidence came into light they had to remain here, even if Prime did want to get rid of half the army.

Giving Prowl a quick nod, Optimus vocalized his opinion about the matter. "We need more information or else we can't act. For all we know, Megatron's just using this as a decoy. Put in a high-level priority request for more information." Prowl agreed, returning to his work after Optimus left. Alone once again, Prowl renewed his vigorous work efforts after submitting the request.

A few breems went by uninterrupted before Prowl got a comm from Ratchet. ::Yes, Ratchet?::

::What's the punishment for murdering Sideswipe?::

::Still the same as the last time you asked me. Possible permanent deactivation pending a martial court decision.::

::It's _Sideswipe_.::

::Then chances are the punishment handed down won't be as steep.::

Ratchet seemed to consider that. ::Like how much less steep?::

::Like spending-the-next-several-vorns-in-prison less steep.::

Ratchet muttered some dark before cutting out. Prowl had a feeling that frantic comm he was expecting wasn't too far off. If he was anything like Smokescreen he'd place a bet on it since odds were high. But he wasn't the fun brother; he was the serious, no-nonsense one. Returning to his work once again, he ignored everything else so he could finally accomplish something. However, it must not be his orn because only two joors in, he received another comm "requesting" his presence down in the rec room. Prowl knew if he refused the request, Jazz would butt into his work schedule by either sitting in his office until he saw fit to leave, or flat out drag the tactician away. Sometimes Prowl loathed his best friend. ::Give me two breems to finish up here.::

::Fine, but one astrosecond later I'm coming after you.::

In exactly two breems Prowl walked out his door. He made it almost to the recreational room before running into Jazz. Jazz gave him a look before grabbing his arm and leading him in. "You really did have to use ever astrosecond of those two breems, didn't you?"

Once they both had their energon they sat down, apart from the few others occupying the room. There wasn't any particular reason for it other than Prowl didn't like competing against loud mechs. Once settled, their conversation wasn't really any different than most days; Jazz berated him for whatever he felt Prowl failed to do that orn to care for himself before "ending on a happy note" by persuading Prowl into whatever activity he wanted to do. In the past, whenever Jazz hung out with the others, he'd try to get Prowl involved. After failing numerous times he devised a new route, removing what he suspected was the reason why Prowl didn't join in – other mechs. Of course Prowl never admitted to having a sort of low-level social anxiety, but it wasn't hart to figure out if you knew him like he did. So when Jazz hung out with a group to do whatever, he'd do the same type of activity alone with Prowl. He hoped the solo similar-activities would help Prowl feel more comfortable and maybe one day he'd finally join in. Today's activity was "human movie night."

"Prowl, I think after all this you could really use some good ol' comedy-relief right about now," Jazz winked, "and I've got just the movie!"

"And just what is this movie, Jazz?"

Jazz smirked deviously. "Nope. Ain't tellin' ya until it's time."

"And leave me in such awful suspense? Your cruelty knows no bounds," Prowl responded, deadpan.

Jazz grinned, fully ready with his own retort when Bluestreak practically ran right into their table. "Hi Jazz, hi Prowl. How's it going? Are you okay, Prowl? I didn't get to ask you yesterday and I couldn't recharge very well 'cuz I was worried you weren't recharging very well after all of that yesterday. So did ya recharge well? Or do you need any help with the datapads? Was that one of the things stressing you out? 'Cuz I could totally help if you let me. I mean, I know nothing about tactical planning but I can still help with something." Bluestreak rushed, concern flickering in his optics as he stared fixated on Prowl.

Prowl felt a pang of guilt over not getting to the sharpshooter sooner. "Thank you, Bluestreak, but I'm fine. I prefer doing the datapads myself." Seeing Bluestreak's crestfallen face he quickly added, "But if I need some assistance in any other way, I'll let you know."

" 'K!" Grinning widely, Bluestreak bounded off to fetch his energon. Prowl and Jazz, the later chuckling at Bluestreak's antics, turned back towards each other before hearing Bluestreak's cheerful, "Hey ya, Sideswipe!"

Jazz leaned to his left so he could see past Prowl, giving him a full view of a very displeased and dented Sideswipe. Sideswipe headed straight over to the couch and pushed his twin over, grunting about his turn next. Sunstreaker shoved him, nonchalantly grunting right back. Jazz pulled himself upright, noticing Prowl never looked back. Was Prowl still upset over the whole Sideswipe thing? Jazz wondered if he should bring it up but decided against it; it'd be better to bring it up in his private quarters after Prowl had unwound a little.

"Well," Prowl said, startling Jazz, "I think it's time for me to return to my work."

" 'K Prowl, but you better be done at 2100, cuz I won't care what's left when I drag your aft out."

/-/

A little after 2000 hours Prowl finished up his last necessary datapad for the day. Thanks to their "home arrest" from Mother Nature, there weren't many high priority datapads for him to work on in a given day. Not that he was hard pressed to fill his day with office work with the abundance of disciplinary issues taking place – along with all the base-related reports, experiments, and inventory/equipment requests. _Especially _the last one. Certain mechs like Ratchet, Wheeljack, Perceptor, and Red Alert found the situation to be a sort of blessing for finally catching up on inventory. And since at any given joor, there were at least 2 'bots in trouble, they had assistance they fully intended to utilize.

However, the system really was a double edge sword for Prowl – someone misbehaves, he has to write up the disciplinary report before punishing them with inventory, where the results and subsequent requests are submitted back to him. It was one thing if this happened on days where he could break the cycle periodically with tactical planning or bureaucratic matters. Unfortunately, current circumstances caused Prowl to lose that kind of relief and he soon found the only way to get some needed air was either doing outdoor patrols or stop fighting Jazz on his self-appointed "Prowl Care" duty (normally he read, but he hard-pressed to find anything new). Yesterday, however, showed him even those weren't enough to relieve all his stress and tension. In fact, now he felt a renewed desire over finding some stress-relief activity allowing him to seclude himself from the stir-crazed warriors. If he could do it in his office, then all the better because then he could spread his work out and keep himself in the office longer. Then no one would bother him… except Jazz. Although he usually didn't consider Jazz a bother. In fact, unless work related, Jazz was one of the few he was willing to leave his office for something outside of work.

However, in Prowl's CPU, 2000 hours was still too early to quit and meet up with Jazz. Before looking at the new low priority reports after he finished Beachcomber's analysis regarding the plant-growth on the lower decks of the Ark, he searched through the datapads in case there were any lose ends with the high priority datapads. There! While it wasn't exactly a loose end, he could check the status of his request for additional information regarding the potential Decepticons sighting. Prowl connected to Teletraan to see if any more data had arrived.

For once he was in luck because only a few breems ago new data had been uploaded from their sources on Cybertron. After loading it onto a datapad, Prowl began reviewing the data. The unit on Cybertron discovered the barely-functional Autobot near catacombs leading into old Decepticon territory. With medical priorities being placed on more battle-ready warriors, the injured Autobot's repairs were placed on low priority since he was neither dying nor ready for battle. However, with the Ark's interest in the matter, repairs were finally completed enough so the Autobot could give them more information.

According to him, his unit was involved in a battle twenty-two orns ago near those catacombs. Several of his teammates were killed and he ran from pursuing Decepticons until an explosion went off causing the ground to crumple beneath them. When he came to, he found himself in an unknown area with his pursuers dead. After stumbling around with a busted internal chronometer for some unknown length of time he became less and less coherent due to energon loss and head trauma. At some point he discovered light along with a red transformer. He couldn't remember much about the red transformer and his companions as they roughed him up except the red transformer's shrill voice. The Autobot salvage team found him just under two decaorns ago, possibly not much after the encounter.

'_Two decaorns ago…_' Prowl put down the datapad. Two decaorns ago Starscream was in destroyed catacombs, presumably at least with his trine mates, doing something. Possibly with Megatron (the mech mentioned hearing Megatron's voice calling for a stop, but the medic said it could've been a hallucination from the head injuries). Stifling a curse, Prowl brought his hand up to his face. This information would do them no good now with the trail gone cold. The original information came in over a decaorn ago, but he'd been so caught up in maintaining order within the Ark, he hadn't bothered to check anything filed with the lowest priority. He even knew that datapad existed before Jazz gave them to him. Sure, he didn't know what was on them but that was hardly an excuse.

He'd botched something vital to his position as SIC and the Autobots. The original datapad showed Decepticon activity still in the area whereas the second one didn't. If he'd read it like he was suppose to and pushed the issue, he would've gotten the information by then. The second report stated the mech had been able to talk a few orns after the first report, but his repairs had been slow coming until the issue had been pressed. They lost valuable time because _he_ didn't push it like Prime's SIC should have.

Suddenly Prowl didn't feel like spending that night with company. Particularly with company that'd immediately pick up on his distress and wouldn't back down until he knew why. Prowl grabbed the datapads and retreated towards the lower levels in Beachcomber's report. According to Beachcomber, there was an office there with partial damage from the crash and some flora growing around it, but otherwise still functional. He knew Jazz wouldn't accept him backing out of their plans and hunt him down, but Jazz would never look for him here. Jazz tended to be smug about knowing where Prowl would normally go, gloating about it every time he 'caught' Prowl. Perhaps one of these days he'd mention to Jazz the risk of gloating meant everyone knew what he knew. Once he reached the lower levels, Prowl sent Jazz a message apologizing for missing their night together but something urgent had come up before turning off his comm.

The knowledge that he failed to stop Starscream and Megatron's scheme burned. His battle computer was nearly frying itself trying to churn up a solution that could rectify his mistake without putting anyone else at additional risk. Sending troops out to battle was one thing, but sending them on a mission meant to fix his mistakes was an entirely different subject matter. It was hard enough sending his friends and brothers to battle and continue giving them orders, but risking someone's spark over his mistake went beyond anything he could accept. Especially since chances are Jazz would be the one sent out to find out what Megatron's up to now, and the thought alone of Jazz being injured or worse because of him nearly caused a hitch in Prowl's spark. But it wasn't going to happen! He wasn't going to fail Jazz like he'd failed as SIC. Jazz was as close to him as his actual brothers and he couldn't stand the idea of losing another family member.

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Yeah, I know, "where's Jazz's part in all of this? How's it PxJ if Jazz is all sidelines?" Well, his involvement really picks up in the next chapter.

Also, I know this chapter's a little short in terms of events, but they'll get longer from here on out. Mostly because Jazz will have more to say in them, and we all know he can fill up a bit more space than Prowl :)


	5. Ch B

_Prowl – "3" ish, Eve of the war _

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Giggling, Prowl crouched and moved slowly around the couch. Surly there was no way…

"Oh no, where is my sparkling? I can't seem to find him anywhere!" He could hear Charger, alerting him to her position on the other side of the couch. '_Shhh!_' Prowl tried to quiet down but try as he might he couldn't stop giggling.

"There he is!" Prowl shrieked, feeling a hand snake out from underneath the couch and grab his ankle before pulling him into Charger's arms. He laughed happily, surrendering himself in Charger's arms.

She laughed as well. With rebel activity growing almost tenfold in just a few decaorns and talk of war on the horizon, she rarely had a whole orn to spend with her little sparkling. Things had intensified within flight operations over security and tactical planning thanks to rising theft and terrorist acts. Granted, she was only a tactical flight planning assistant but her schedule closely mirrored several tacticians – and some of those tacticians rarely went home. She pitted them. They looked as if they were slowly wilting away right there in their offices.

A light brush against her spark brought her out of her musing and back into reality. Knowing it didn't mean anything harmful, she focused on the happy but tired sparkling in her arms.

"Why if I didn't know better, I'd think my Prowl needs a nap!"

"Noo!" Her little Prowl cried, kicking his peds a little, now fully awake. She laughed.

"Okay, okay! How about a snack?"

Seeing his delighted facial expression she gently put him down and Prowl scampered over to the energon dispenser. Charger hung back for a little, enjoying the sight of her little Prowl so relaxed and happy, doorwings practically flapping with each step. It was nice knowing the improvements at home they were working hard for had the effect on her sparkling she hoped for.

After fetching the energon she sat Prowl at the table so he could drink it without making a mess. Prowl wasn't a messy sparkling by nature; however, on the occasion something attracted his attention he'd reach for it completely forgetting about the energon in his hand. Prowl quietly drank his energon, absently kicking his feet. Unlike the other sparklings, he rarely vocalized his thoughts unless prompted and fully engaged into the conversation. Since she could read his body language just fine she never worried. Others worried about her quiet sparkling because they didn't understand, but she understood. Those kicking legs? Meant he was eager to continue playing after feeding. His doorwings were relaxed yet held slightly high, a sign that he was alert but content.

Charger cleaned up the apartment as he drank, pausing as she came across a small puzzle. "Prowl?" She called looking back, "would you like to try the puzzle again when you're finished?"

"Uh huh!"

Placing the puzzle by Prowl, Charger returned to finish up cleaning the apartment. As much as she'd love to help him work on it, she needed to get the apartment clean soon.

She was almost finished when Blacksmoke came home, the soft click and 'whoosh' of the front door sliding open alerting her to his presence. Placing down the dirty energon mixing ware, she walked over and greeted him with a fresh smile.

Blacksmoke stood there, watching Prowl renew his attempts at the puzzle. Charger crossed into his view and he struggled for a few astroseconds before finally shifting gears. "How was having the orn off, love?" It didn't felt right calling his mate a term of endearment but he was trying to be the "loving creator" Charger nag– _informed_ him that his family needed him to be. With recent developments, he was making a conscious effort to meet her at least part way on that along with going easier on Prowl. By no means was he any happier about the situation regarding his sparkling's games and skills, but he knew constantly reminding his creation about it wasn't going to make his home a happier place. So for at least for the next few decaorns he needed to almost short his vocal processor whenever Prowl's activities weren't something he approved of.

"Great!" Charger grinned. "We spent the orn playing, reading, and making energon confetti." Leading him back to the kitchen Charger pulled them out from the cooling unit and placed them on the counter. For some reason Blacksmoke and Prowl preferred cooled energon confetti, which went against the norm, but whatever. 'Clearly _there are more important things to life_,' Charger thought to herself, smiling softly as she touched her chassis.

Looking at the energon confetti, Blacksmoke saw shapes resembling turbofoxes, toys, and even the sparkling symbol for "love." In fact, that symbol was used several times along with symbols for "family" and "sweetspark." Shifting his gaze so he could ask her – none too nicely – if she'd prefer a femme sparkling instead, he stopped when he saw her touching her chassis. A faint smile crept along his face as he asked, "How's he doing?"

Charger looked up momentarily. "He seems to be fine, but he's one active spark!" Faintly laughing, Charger enjoyed the feeling of knowing that Prowl was about to be a brother. Just one more decaorn and his shell and spark would be ready for the transfer. Blacksmoke and Charger chose to give this sparkling a mech body – well, more like Blacksmoke chose but Charger didn't care about that. Last time Blacksmoke had more say in when it came to naming Prowl and she was determined to have the final say for this sparkling. Except she hadn't actual come up with a name yet.

Feeling more activity swell from the spark, she couldn't help but wince. Forming sparks didn't interact with the carrier's spark, but nearly-formed sparks had enough energy to sometimes brush up against the carrier's. It didn't hurt, but sometimes it had lingering unpleasant effects.

"Blacksmoke, do you think you can keep an optic on Prowl while I lay down for a few breems?"

"Why?" Blacksmoke demanded, instantly alarmed. Carrying a spark wasn't supposed to normally have much of an effect on the carrier unless the spark was either dying or being overactive. Kind of annoying, really, since it could only be one of the two – either the spark was at risk for being extinguished or had an energetic personality. And if it was the former there wasn't much time to prevent it. Blacksmoke may not be the doting sparker but that didn't mean he wasn't any less caring. Just like he felt like it was his duty to protect Prowl by helping him develop into a _real _mech, it was also his duty to make sure his other sparkling would too.

"He's been at it for a little while and it's starting to wear me down, having this much excess energy bleed over."

"Ah," Blacksmoke sighed in relief, noting that Prowl had abandoned his puzzle to watch them curiously. "Can do."

Charger smiled and muttered her thanks before disappearing into their room. Blacksmoke looked at his sparkling who was looking right back before speaking. "Is there… any… games you want to play?" Like using endearing terms, _not_ suggesting certain games was foreign to him. However, after that orn Charger was almost beside herself when Prowl had taken one of his games exceptionally hard while carrying the spark, Blacksmoke was making a real conscious effort to be the "supportive, understanding" creator. '_It's for the well being of my forming sparkling_,' Blacksmoke reminded himself.

Beaming, Prowl jumped up and wriggled down off the chair before running off to his room to search for a particular game. This particular game was important to him because he needed to keep practicing so he could show his brother once he gets here. Most of Prowl's little quests and questions these orns had to do with his younger brother, further perpetrated since he knew his brother was coming soon. When that was he didn't know since he wasn't quite sure where his little brother was –Charger explained to him multiple times that his brother was in her chassis and soon would be with them in his own body, but the concept was a little too abstract for him. Still, Prowl couldn't wait. Soon he'd get to teach his brother things like games, not to eat the energon the older sparklings offered, and show him his favorite crystal tree by the park along with all the exciting items around their home. Like that material on the desk in the far corner. It felt nice between his fingers and was pretty to look at. He could spend breems playing with it and now he'd have someone to enjoy it with.

Ah hah! There it was. His new game was meant to help him with his coordination. He wanted to make sure his little brother would be able to play those games on the playground so other sparklings wouldn't pick on him. Not that Prowl would let them, but it was his responsibility to make sure his little brother wasn't in that position to begin with.

Feeling his excitement swell up at the idea of being an older brother, Prowl ran back to Blacksmoke, eager to play. Not only was he becoming the best older brother ever, but he was getting to play with his sparker without making him upset! It didn't even have to be these kinds of games – several times they played puzzle games. But whenever he played games like the one in his hands his sparker was more involved so Prowl was eager to put aside his puzzles for action.

Stopping just short of Blacksmoke's peds, Prowl looked up radiating with barely-contained energy. Times like these where he'd see his sparkling happy, Blacksmoke almost didn't care what they played. Almost. It was still his duty to make sure his sparkling – sparklings – could defend themselves but right now that didn't matter. Giving him a smile, Blacksmoke looked back at Prowl and said, "Okay, so what game is this?"

/-/

Lying down on his front, Prowl tried to focus on the short story instead of how tired he was. Usually his creators didn't wake him up this early. He didn't know why he was up and he was too sleepy to really care. His creators would tell him soon enough after they finished arguing in the kitchen while Charger prepared his energon.

"Charger, I can't take him. There isn't an orn-care center anywhere even remotely near my work."

"Well there's none by my office either! I have to leave as soon as possible, whereas you don't have to leave for a few more joors."

Blacksmoke groaned, not use to arguing this early in the orn. "And then where do I take him? The training room? Or perhaps the weapons room? I suppose I could leave him with planning where they discuss all those glamorous details of war."

"My office is incredibly busy! He could get stepped on or knocked over!"

"Well I guess we have to decide if we want to risk him getting shot, traumatized, or stepped on. Personally, I'd think he's got a better chance where his biggest threat is someone's ped."

Realizing he was right, Charger felt a little deflated. Plus she'd have a better chance of getting her bosses to allow a sparkling there since she was the one called in so she really should take him in. This wasn't the first time one of them was called in around or during the other's shift but it was the first time neither one of them had available friends.

"Alright, alright. Let me finish getting Prowl ready and then we'll leave."

Blacksmoke grunted before staggering off to their berth as Charger walked over to a lightly-recharging Prowl.

"Prowl? Prowl, sweetspark," Charger quietly cajoled him awake, "drink this fast and then we have to leave. You get to see where I work today." Prowl quickly (well, semi-quickly) snapped awake and rapidly drank his energon. He'd finally get to see where his carrier worked and discover new things!

In less than a breem the two of them were out the door. Charger transformed into a sleek racer, letting Prowl in before taking off.

The two of them reported in a few breems later, Charger holding him to keep Prowl away from all the commotion. She could feel her little sparkling pressing up against her and she looked down to see his doorwings flat against his back but his optics wide and curious. Wasn't surprising, really; this was Prowl's first time around so many fully-upgraded transformers. Maybe even his first time being around this many transformers _at all_.

"Charger!"

Startled, Charger turned around to see her boss, Boombox, looking displeased. Great – her "favorite" boss with her "favorite" expression on.

"Charger, you can't bring your sparkling here!" Boombox nearly jabbed his finger right in Prowl's face. Prowl jerked his head back and stared at the offending digit as if debating on whether to smack it out of his face or not. Little did Boombox know, that was pretty much exactly what Prowl was thinking. Prowl didn't like anyone getting that close without his approval first.

"Then I can't work," Charger said simply, "since you called me in just before my mate's shift and there isn't anyone available to take him. This was the only option we could come up with."

Boombox huffed, irritated. "Fine," he snapped, "but if he distracts you _one_ astrosecond from your work there'll be repercussions! Now report to Skycracker's office." With that Boombox turned away and yelled at some other transformer.

'_Sheesh, now there's a mech in need of a good interface._' Since she was reporting to Skycracker she didn't feel worried about getting in trouble over Prowl, at least this early. Skycracker was a much older mech and didn't take life too seriously.

"Hello, Skycracker," Charger greeted him warmly. The elderly tactician looked up, giving her a spark-felt greeting.

"And who is this darling sparkling?"

"This," Charger lowered Prowl down onto the desk, "is my sweet sparkling. Can you introduce yourself?" The last comment was directed towards Prowl as she gave him an encouraging smile.

Prowl ducked his head down for an astrosecond before looking back at the gentle optics of this strange mech, speaking carefully. "My designation's Prowl. Nice to meet you."

"Prowl? That's a nice name. I bet you can sneak up on anyone, can't you?"A giggle escaped from Prowl before he caught himself. Skycracker merely smiled before continuing on, "My designation's Skycracker. It's nice to meet you too."

Leaning back into his chair Skycracker looked up at Charger. "I'm glad to finally meet your darling sparkling. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Chuckling, Charger gathered Prowl back up before answering. "We don't have anywhere to keep him while Blacksmoke and I work."

"My, my," whistled Skycracker, "that is a problem. And you can't very well run around with a sparkling in your arms with datapads all orn."

Seeing the "out" section on his desk, Charger's good mood evaporated as she realized it was going to be a very busy orn. "No… I don't suppose I can." While Skycracker was laid back regarding certain protocols, most weren't. She didn't know what they'd do since they needed her with all this unusual commotion and activity but that didn't mean they'd cut her any slack. Speaking of the unusual commotion…

"Tell ya what," Skycracker spoke, interrupting her thoughts, "why don't you leave him here for the duration of your shift. I'm sure I can wrangle up or thing or two for his amusement."

"Oh! That'd be lovely!" Relaxing, Charger put Prowl down only to have him immediately attach himself to her leg. Coaxing him off her leg, she couldn't help but inquire about the near chaos going on. "I've been meaning to ask – what's going on? Why is it suddenly so busy and why am I needed?"

"They didn't explain it to you?"

"No, they just told me that 'my presence was mandatory ASAP.'"

Skycraker flashed a dark smile. "That sounds like them. No questions, no answers. Just demands." Shaking his head ruefully he continued on. "One of the AX-IIV transportation shuttles used for energon delivery was attacked."

If it was possible, Charger paled. She knew which one he was talking about. Only one of those shuttles was delivering energon for a small city under a severe shortage. To help out, Praxus sent out a very large amount in that shuttle. And those particular shuttles didn't have much defense against hacking since only delivery servers could be accessed. But if the rebels knew how to use that information then they could intercept other deliveries.

"I better get started." Finally getting Prowl off her leg, Charger grabbed the datapads. "Play nice, okay? I'll be back in a little while."

Pouting, Prowl nodded. Charger left and Prowl looked up uncertain about the older mech. Skycracker smiled at him reassuringly. "Let's see… I do believe I have a 3D puzzle of Cybertron in here… ah yes! Here it is!"

_

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_

_Yes, some of these OC names brought to you by the Decepticons. I'm so original lol _

_And I thought I was kidding myself at 17 pages in that this was gonna be 34 pages long. It's only 29 – and I've still got one more scene left. Ah hahah. I'm _so_ funny. I tried to divide it up as best as possible without ending things at odd places. There's 3 parts total since I figure no one wants to read a 30 page chapter, but I decided to polish it in parts. I finished the first two together, so I posted them together but I'm still working on the third part._


	6. Ch C

_I tried coming up with a better way to divide up these chapters so none of them were long, but it didn't really pan out. So here's my advice on this chapter: If you need a break, take it at the first '_-'

_Prowl – "3" ish, Eve of the war _

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Several joors later, Charger finally managed to swing back into Skycracker's office. What she found shocker her – a happy Prowl playing with someone else. Skycracker made several toys from items around his office and was playing with Prowl, almost completely abandoning his work. Prowl was excited, his optics glowing vibrantly. In all the times Prowl played with others he never seemed this comfortable and happy.

Skycracker looked up, seeing a stunned Charger in his doorway. Chuckling, he turned back to Prowl. "Why don't you finish setting these up for me?"

Nodding eagerly, Prowl grabbed the remaining fragments of a broken datapad and continued setting them up like dominos. When Skycracker turned back towards her, Charger snapped out of it. "Been playing all these joors?"

"Well, not quite," Skycracker said slowly as he thought back, "more like off and on. I show him something, and we play for a breem. Then he starts all over while I do some work."

"I love that you're spending time with my sparkling but today's emergency takes priority."

"You had most of what I could do about it when you walked out earlier," Skycracker pointed out.

Charger sighed, feeling wrong berating a mech for making her sparkling happy. Still, certain priorities came first. Charger flinched, feeling the little sparkling in her chassis give off excess energy again. Skycracker noticed it and gave her a quizzical look.

"Sparkling giving you a problem?"

"Nothing serious," she assured him. "He's just an energetic one."

"Ah, I know of the feeling. I myself was a sparker once," Skycracker chuckled fondly at the memory.

"I thought you were a carrier."

"Yeah," Skycracker averted his optics, looking down at Prowl as he carefully set up the fragments, "once." Oh. Charger grimaced, understanding the unspoken words. "Anyways," Skycracker spoke again sounding normal, "I seem to recall there being a special name for energetic pre-formed sparklings like yours now."

"Oh, yes," she laughed. "It's 'streak' or sometimes 'streaker.' Creators attach it at the end of their sparkling's designation if they gave off excess energy while being formed. It's supposed to symbolize the vitality of their spark."

"You gonna follow suit? Maybe designate him as 'Redstreak'?" Now it was Charger's turn to give him a quizzical look. "For the red chevrons you and your sparkling have – and I suspect that your new sparkling's shell has one too." Skycracker gave her a smug look knowing her too well. They'd worked together for a long time.

"Heh, maybe." Charger took a moment to internally test it. '_Come here, little Redstreak._' Hmm… didn't quite sound right. She'd have to think about it later – maybe something similar. "Well at any rate, I've got a little bit more work to do before I can finally leave. Come on, Prowl. Why don't we give Skycracker a break so he can finish his work?" Prowl stopped what he was doing, looking up at Charger. She could see the pout forming.

So could Skycracker. "How about this?" He interjected quickly, "Why don't you finish up what you can in the next three breems while I take my break?"

"I think you've had enough breaks."

"Ah, but I have yet to have an _official_ break."

Charger couldn't help but laugh at that, especially after seeing Prowl's pout turn into a smile. "Well, I guess you might as well. Rules say you have to have an official break and I'm not supposed to have sparklings with me. So really, we're just abiding by the rules."

"Yup, we really have no choice in the matter." Skycracker shook his head sorrowfully. "Guess I'll just have to play with this amazing sparkling so we can follow the boss' rules." Prowl straightened his shoulders after hearing Skycracker call him "amazing."

"Then it's settled. See you a few breems." Charger waved goodbye to the pair before disappearing.

Skycracker turned back around to see Prowl. "Those datapad pieces look ready to be knocked down! You ready?" Prowl nodded and jumped up, causing his doorwings to flap slightly. "Okay, come here." Getting down onto his knees he pulled Prowl by his side so his little hand was in position. "One, two, three!" Prowl poked the datapad piece somewhere between two and three, and all the pieces fell down after each other. Well… almost all the pieces. Earlier Prowl set up a junction point, but the pieces were too far away for both paths to fall down. Prowl frowned, flicking his doorwings up as he marched over and _pushed _them over. No way would those pieces be better than him!

"Heh, a little driven to have things go your way, aren't you?" Prowl merely looked back, as if to say "whatever do you mean?" Skycracker looked at him, a little concerned. "You don't talk much, do you?" As if to prove his point, Prowl tucked his optics away without responding. "It's okay if you don't." He continued on after Prowl looked up at him, "I bet a lot of the other sparklings give you trouble for that, don't they? You shouldn't let that get to you. I bet it's why you're so smart. You don't spend all your time talking about things because you like to listen and understand them instead. One day you'll be great when you grow up 'cause you'll understand things better than most."

Prowl couldn't help be simultaneously bashful and proud at that. He drew up his shoulders and doorwings before declaring, "I'm gonna be a great officer one day!"

"Oh, do you know what department you want to work in?"

"Enforcer!"

Skycracker frowned. "Why do you want to be an Enforcer?" He didn't know anything about fighting but he didn't think the little sparkling had it in him what he needed as an Enforcer.

"Because that's what my sparker is and I want to be just like him and make him happy." Prowl threw his arms across his chassis and folded them just like his sparker usually does.

"Prowl… you don't have to do anything just because it'll make _someone else_ happy. If they care about you, then they're happy when you do what _you_ love. Not the other way around." What had his sparker been telling him that had him convinced only being an Enforcer was the right choice?

Prowl's shoulders suddenly dropped. His looked confused, almost crushed. "My sparker doesn't care about me?"

"No! That's not what I meant." '_Well, actually it kind of is but you don't need to know that._' Skycracker drew the sparkling closer to him, placing a hand on each shoulder. "I'm sure he loves you very much and wants you to be happy." Skycracker gave his shoulders a friendly squeeze before changing topics. "Why don't you check what's outside my window while I set these up so next time you don't have to knock down the junction point yourself?"

Prowl nodded, his good mood back again. He climbed up a chair and looked out the window as Skycracker reset the pieces. "What do you see, Prowl?" He noticed the sparkling liked to observe. Perhaps asking him questions about his observations would help bring him out of his shell a little bit.

"I see…" Prowl looked around, studying the transformers below. "There's a mech running around in circles, talking to a bunch of others mechs. He looks upset."

"Oh? Can you see any symbols on them?"

"Uh huh, they all have the glyph for 'security' on their shoulders."

'_Ah, that must be that young, paranoid security worker running around. Twenty credits says he's red and white._' Scooting back a little to finish his task, Skycracker asked Prowl about the mech's color.

"He's red and white." Skycracker laughed quietly before asking Prowl if he could hear what the red and white security mech was saying.

Prowl pushed a button, partially opening the window. Not enough for him to fall out but enough he could hear the mech. "He's talking about how the destroyed shuttle gave rebels a chance to hack into schedules for the entire flight operations through the delivery systems."

'_Yeah right. Delivery systems are on an entirely different server. There's no hacker or infiltrator that could find some connection between the two systems_.' Finally done, Skycracker called Prowl over.

Prowl didn't move for a moment; he was still watching and listening to the security personnel. "What's a shift change?"

'_Oh…_' Skycracker checked his internal chronometer. His official break was about to be over, which happened to nearly coincide with the shift change. "Shift changes are when mechs and femmes already working get to go home while others who haven't worked yet start."

"So all the workers are here?"

"Mostly. There's a third shift change before it starts all over. This happens to be the busiest one tho' because all operations are in swing."

"What's that mean?"

"It means all the systems are open and running at full capacity."

"What happens if they aren't?"

"Well, if they aren't all open, then no one can access them. Like when the next shift change occurs, half the systems are shut down. If they aren't running at full capacity, then the security programs may not be fully functional and someone might be able to hack in."

Prowl couldn't help his growing curiosity. "What do these systems do?"

"Everything that's remotely flight-related. Shuttles, military operations, deliveries, records, schedules, and detailed logs on the weaponry and aircraft storage – you name it."

"So everyone is here right now? And everything that can tell us anything is running right now?" Prowl looked at him inquisitively as he stepped of the chair, leaving the window open.

"Yup."

"That's a lotta stuff going on!"

"More stuff than you've ever known, huh sparkling?" chuckled Skycracker. Prowl nodded as he stepped over to the dominos. "Why don't you close the window?"

Prowl shrugged. "I like the sounds coming from it." Skycracker tilted his head, listening for a moment. That's weird… a high-pitch tone was coming in from his window. There were no audio buildings in this area. Maybe someone else finally opened their window and was playing some bad music from their office? No one ever open their windows but that didn't mean it couldn't happen. Skycracker just shook his head and moved on. Charger would be here any minute.

"Okay, Prowl, ready? One, two, three!" Together they knocked down the first datapad piece. They fell down quickly, in almost perfect form. Even the junction point fell perfectly. Prowl clapped his hands when that happened, although he was distracted by the increasing high-pitch sound coming through the window. "What's that noise?" Prowl asked, as the last dominos fell.

"What – "

An energy bolt ripped through the office next to his, cutting Skycracker off. Debris shot out at him and Prowl but he managed to duck and yank Prowl underneath his desk with him. He couldn't hear anything over that energy blast! The high-pitch whine was more than his audios could handle and they shut down leaving him disorientated. Looking around he saw Prowl curled up, quivering as he held his hands over his audio receptors and his optics offline. Finally his audio receptors came back online half a bream later after the energy blast disappeared. He could hear screams and wounded cries all around him. He jumped up, shaken to his very core as he ran over to what use to be an office. There was a three-story size holed ripped right through the entire building!

"Primus!" As he gasped he felt the support beams begin to give way. He glanced down as he felt two small arms wrap around his leg. Prowl was shaking as he crouched down on the floor. Skycracker knew Prowl could hear the awful sounds the others were making. "Come on Prowl, we gotta – "

A second blast ripped through the building, this time a few stories lower. He screamed as the support beams started to give way. He managed to snatch the frightened sparkling just before the entire floor started sliding into the first hole. Crying out, he grabbed onto a support beam between him and the hole, holding on for dear life with Prowl between his arms as they plunged into the hole.

They plummeted into the next floor, smashing into the walls. Prowl cried out, nearly jolted out of Skycracker's arms. What was going on? Where was his carrier? He started to cry franticly for his carrier as Skycracker tried moving quickly across the fallen debris.

Skycracker ran as fast as he could, hearing the support beams groaning again. He stopped short, seeing his exit blocked. Franticly he searched around for a hole or crack – anything to get them away from the immediate threat. He tried to soothe Prowl down during his search.

"What the pit?" Skycracker yelped in surprise. What did he trip over? Looking back he saw one of his dear friends lying in two pieces. His friend wasn't dead yet, moaning in pain and trying to call for help. Skycracker knew no help could save her. He bent down grasping his friend's hand to comfort her. Prowl tucked his head into Skycracker's chassis as best as possible but he could still see the dying femme. He badly wanted to turn his audio receptors off but if he did then he'd never hear his carrier. Unable to do anything to ease his predicament, he clung to Skycracker tightly and began whimpering.

Feeling the pressure on his arms tighten, Skycracker was immediately reminded of the poor sparkling in his arms. What should he do? Let his friend die alone or further traumatize the youngling? He never made his decision as his friend suddenly violently spasm before going completely still. He almost started keening but was immediately cut off as the ground shuttered again. Standing back up he renewed his search but he couldn't find anything they could get through. The ground shuttered again, dropping a little.

"Prowl? Prowl! Skycracker?"

Both their heads snapped up and Skycracker ran towards the direction of her voice.

"Charger!"

They heard a crack as Charger ran up to the partially-fallen beam between them, ripping away a broken piece. The beam still held firmly in place, but at least they could now see each other.

Skycracker peered into the small hole. "I can't find a way to get out!"

"Back away!"

Skycracker leaped back, ducking behind what use to be his floor. A small blast blew the beam apart and Charger dashed in, weapon out. "Come on!" She cried. Both ran into the building section still supported. Charger moved ahead of them, looking around for an escape. The main exit for this building had fallen after the second blast and now there was no clear way down the twelve flights. Looking up, she stilled before pulling Skycracker and Prowl behind a wall with her – where Boombox's body laid. She hushed Prowl, calming him down as she rubbed his helm for a moment. Skycracker tried putting him in her arms, but she refused. "What are you doing?" He hissed.

She jerked her head towards the wall and Skycracker peered around. What he saw made him tremble. There, among the dying cries, were the rebels tearing into both mechs and systems. '_Primus…_' he turned away, unable to watch his friends and coworkers be ripped apart.

Charger peered back around. She felt the same sting as Skycracker. She saw friends she set play dates with die in agony and there wasn't anything she could do. There were so many rebels… and they _were_ equipped for fighting. She was possibly the only flight operations transformer with a weapon since most found the idea of carrying a weapon ludicrous. Blacksmoke forced her to start carrying it when the rebels started becoming a real threat, but it was only meant to defend herself against a few mechs. She stood no chance at fighting this many, but she couldn't put her gun down. Terror ran through her systems but she had to stay calm for her sparklings. The sparkling in her chassis brushed up against her spark again, probably feeling her terror.

"What about the systems over here?" Some of the rebels turned towards their direction.

"We have to move now!" Charger hissed at them, pushing Skycracker back towards the direction they came. They ran towards the other side making their way to the back of the building. Unfortunately, there were rebels in that direction as well.

Skycracker and Charger looked at each other. "There's nowhere to go." Skycracker breathed.

"No. Nowhere to go except back where I found you."

"But the floor supports are giving way!"

"We'll have to find a spot to hide out at in there. There's no other choice!"

Looking around, Skycracker saw that she was right. In any moment one of the two rebel groups would see them. Hesitating for a fraction of an astrosecond, Skycracker chose the only option they really had. He lunged into the hole Charger made earlier. Charger followed suit, using her blaster to knock down another beam to block the hole. Skycracker quickly search for a safe spot while still holding Prowl. There! One of the floors remained intact and he could feel the floor holding firmly.

"Over here!"

Charger hurried over to him. "Underneath all this debris?"

"It's the only place I can find where the floor isn't shaking." As for further proof, the floor around them shook and crumbled slightly but Skycracker's spot held rigid.

Charger subspaced her weapon, finally taking her sparkling into her arms. She could feel him trembling, and she tried reassuring him with comforting words while rubbing his helm and back. They stayed like that with Skycracker trying to help Charger calm the frightened sparkling.

Prowl finally managed to stop shaking, although his doorwings still quivered. He buried his face into Charger's chassis, begging her not to leave him again.

Charger felt a pang in her spark; both from her unnamed sparkling fluctuating wildly and from hearing Prowl's pleas. "I'm not going to leave you sweetspark, I promise."

Skycracker laid his hand on Prowl's head. "It'll be okay, little one. We're won't leave you."

Irony must have heard him because no sooner were the words out of his mouth did the floors _above _them shudder violently before giving way. Prowl cried as he felt larger debris hit him as the weight of the fallen floor caused their floor to give way and they smashed into the last fully intact floor.

/-/

Prowl whimpered as he came back online. His optics were refusing to come online, and he could barely hear. His right side was sending him waves of pain, particularly in his doorwing and leg. At least he could still feel his carrier's arms around him, but he wasn't lying on her chassis anymore. Finally, his optics rebooted. Prowl was lying on Charger's abdomen and she was sprawled across the floor. Her optics were dim.

"Carrier?" His voice sounded small and meek. She wasn't moving much and he could see some damage on her chassis with a small energon leak. Where was Skycracker?

As if to answer his question, he heard Skycracker moan to his right. Prowl tried to turn his head, but a sharp unyielding pain struck him and he cried out. As soon as the pain let him, he tried again slowly despite the reoccurring pain until he finally managed to find Skycracker.

Skycracker was lying on his back, bent over what use to be a desk, a jagged beam protruding into his chassis. His mouth hung open as he looked back towards Prowl, his optics unfocused. Energon was pouring out of his mouth. Prowl cried out trying frantically to move and help Skycracker. But he couldn't move! The pain in his doorwing and leg only got worse. Why couldn't he move?

Prowl managed to wiggle enough so he could see his right side. A small rebar had impaled his doorwing and several sharp pieces were jammed into his right side, including his neck. A large piece – possibly from the same desk Skycracker was on – went sideways into his leg. Prowl pushed the rebar in his doorwing until it loosed up out of Charger's hip and he could move a little. Looking back at his carrier he could hear her coming around. Turning to Skycracker he crawled until he came up to his face. He sat up on his knees, ignoring the pain in his leg as the shard dug in.

"Skycracker?" Prowl pushed on Skycracker's shoulder, trying to shake him. Skycracker moaned, turning towards Prowl. His optics tried to focus while his mouth attempted to close so he could form words.

"Skycracker?" Skycracker shuddered before making a gasp much like that femme he saw earlier. Skycracker's optics went dark. "Skycracker!"

Charger was stirred away by the sounds of her sparkling crying. The pain in her chassis… she could barely focus from the intense pain coming from her spark chamber. '_Primus… please let my sparklings be okay,_' she silently prayed. She forced her systems to reroute enough power to her optics so she could search for Prowl. She found him huddled over Skycracker's dead body.

"Prowl! Prowl come here!" She cried urgently. Prowl stopped his little cries immediately.

"Carrier?" He dragged himself back until he was lying on top of her right shoulder. He curled up, looking at her face. He didn't want her optics to go dark too.

"Come 'ere." Charger reached her left arm around and dragged Prowl onto her chassis so she could wrap her arms around him, but she couldn't get him quite over her shoulder. The rebar in Prowl's doorwing was hitting the beam lying right above them. He whimpered as the bar twisted slightly, tearing his doorwing slightly.

Groaning, Charger tried to move her right arm. It hurt like the Pit, but it would move. "Prowl, sweetspark, can you get off my shoulder for a moment and lie down by my hand?" Prowl nodded before crawling down by her hand and lying as flat as possible. With some difficulty, Charger managed to move her arm around so she could pull the rebar out. Unfortunately, she had to pull it out at a slight angel so it tore Prowl's doorwing a little further. Prowl managed to hold his whimpering in – he needed to be strong for his carrier. She looked really hurt. Her legs were pinned down and steadily leaking energon.

Once the rebar was out, Charger pulled out the desk shard and Prowl came back up to her shoulder. This time Charger managed to pull him onto her chassis and Prowl curled up underneath her hand. Breathing a sigh of relief that her sparkling was alright at least for the moment, she began to assess her own damage. Her legs were losing a fair amount of energon and her right side had numerous non-threatening injuries, but she seemed okay with the exception of her chassis. Closing the systems in her legs to slow the loss of energon, she thanked Primus that Prowl didn't stay on her chassis as she fell. Whatever hit her would have likely dangerously wounded his helm. But while she thanked Primus she also begged him for her other sparkling's life. The pain was becoming weaker but so was her sparkling's presence.

Prowl laid there for almost a breem, just listening to his carrier breathe. Once he felt calmer, he lifted his head to look into her optics. "Carrier? Should I try to find help?"

Charger tilted her head back. A grey light slipped through the cracks behind them. Instead of feeling joy, however, Charger felt dread as she recalled which floor they were on. Several vital machines were on this floor, which meant it was likely the rebels were on the other side. She brought her hand up to the side of Prowl's face, lightly brushing it across. "No, my little Prowl. We have to remain quiet until we hear our friends."

Prowl didn't understand but he would do as his carrier said. He laid his head back down and held his carrier tightly. Charger put her head back down, absently brushing her hand against Prowl's back for comfort as she tried to use her own spark to help her other sparkling. Now it was all a matter of time.

/-/

Prowl raised his head up, not sure if he was hearing things right. He could hardly see, most of the light from the cracks gone. He strained his damaged audio receptors hoping he really heard it.

"Is anyone there? Is anyone still alive?" The voice was faint, but it was definitely coming from the other side.

Prowl immediately pulled himself up so he could see his carrier's face. Her optics were dark.

"Carrier?" His little hands gently shook her face. A faint moan came floated through the air and her optics came online, dimmer than last time. Prowl shook her one more time, but she didn't respond anymore. No! "Carrier, they're here! Our friends came!" Prowl shook her harder, crying for her to wake up.

"Hey! I hear someone over here!" Prowl stopped, and looked up. His carrier needed him to be brave and try to reach the transformers who could help them. He crawled forward until he reached the beam between him and help. He cried out until someone found him.

"I've found someone! Come quick!"

"Help!" Prowl cried, pushing against the beam, trying to get to the mech who would help his carrier. "My carrier is hurt!"

"Carrier? Are you a sparkling?"

"Uh huh! Please help!" Prowl heard the voice swore.

"Relax sparkling, help's on the way. I need you to back away. Can you do that for me?"

Prowl back up until he was back on Charger's chassis. The disembodied voiced called again, asking him if he was far away. Prowl told him yes before curling up on Charger's chassis, by her head. He could hear the voice tell him they were coming but he didn't respond.

"Carrier? They're coming. See, they're coming. Please don't go black." He held onto her neck, begging her to be okay. Charger's optic were still dim, but she moaned a little when he grabbed her neck. Prowl heard the beam between them get sliced up as the rescuers kept calling. He didn't look at them; he was focused on making sure his carrier's optics didn't go black.

He felt Charger's body being pulled backwards, but they stopped when her legs remained trap. A small mech climbed in and cut the debris away. He kept telling Prowl that they were going to be fine, but Prowl barely heard him. At last Charger's body was pulled free. As they left their small hole, Prowl glanced back at Skycracker. "Don't forget him!" He pointed at Skycracker, getting the small mech's attention.

The mech uttered a surprised sound, staring at the body. "Uh, yeah… we'll get him out." Prowl sighed in relief; now maybe Skycracker's optics wouldn't be black.

The rescuers pulled them flat onto the ground and one of them dragged Prowl away. Prowl, of course, cried – he wasn't having it. He had to be with his carrier! But the femme holding him paid no heed to his cries as she quickly checked him over. He could hear them yelling back and forth about his carrier.

"We need to get this femme into surgery right now! She's carrying a sparkling and they're both in critical condition!" Whoever this strange mech was turned towards Prowl. "Does this sparkling have a body ready for it yet?"

Prowl was confused. "My carrier said my brother was gonna be with us in a decaorn."

That was all the mech needed to know. "Someone find where the sparkling's body is! We may have to force a spark-body transition if we want at least one of them to survive."

Two mechs came over with a long, thin thing Prowl had never seen before. Charger was pulled onto it and they took her away. Prowl screamed after her.

"Shh! It'll be okay." The femme tried to hug him, but Prowl pushed her away. "You'll be with her soon, I promise, but right now I need to take you to the sparkling care unit at the main medical facility. She'll be there too." Prowl tried to keep pushing her, but he eventually gave up, collapsing in exhaustion, keening softly as she took him away.

_

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_

_No, that wasn't the attack on Praxus from cannon. And that high-pitched tone was an energy charger being powered up. Any guesses on who the infiltrator was that figured out the connection between the delivery and main systems?_

_Third part will be up by the end of this week._


	7. Ch D

_I like to keep my chapters around 8 pages. This is just barely 16. Whoops._

_Also I'd like to thank Evil Ratchet, who offered her assistance to beta read after I bitched about this chapter. Since she gave me excellent advice, I went through and cleaned up/edited all the other chapters (and did they need it o.O ).It's amazing what stepping away for a few days does._

_ Prowl – "3" ish, Eve of the war _

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For the umpteenth time, Prowl groggily pulled himself online. He'd only spent a few joors in the hospital's pediatrics before being released to his sparker. Most of his time there was spent waiting – turns out there was an orn-care center by Charger's building but only for those employed in a different department. Physically he was the most injured, but the sparklings in the orn-day care center had been subjected to poison within the debris. The poison came from old building materials and, if not treated quickly enough, could cause severe energon line and air tank damage. To help with his wait and repairs they gave him a few mildly strong sedative and pain medications. Even though they were meant for sparklings, Prowl's system couldn't hand them too well leaving him still sluggish, numb, and sleepy. The doctors only repaired him as far he needed, leaving the rest to his self-repair systems and for later work due to the onslaught of injured mechs arrive. It didn't help him any on top of that waiting in a hallway with his sparker for news on Charger and his little brother. He tried hard to stay online, but only a breem later found himself drifting again.

Blacksmoke knew his son was struggling to stay online, but since it was drug related and not injury related he couldn't focus enough to give it much thought. All his attention was on the room down the hall. He wished he could be by the door but the rebels hit 2 fully-operation towers and a small building, causing the hospital to be overfilled with the injured, dying, dead, and worried family members. Outside were perhaps hundreds of family members waiting to hear about their loved ones. It wasn't good luck that got family members in the hospital, though; it was usually being needed to identify a body. His case was one of the few exceptions because of his injured sparkling. They were supposed to leave immediately but there was no way he was going to until he heard a status report on Charger and their other son. For now, they waited as close as possible while staying away from the whirlwind of workers and distraught relatives and loved ones.

He just… She couldn't… He didn't know what was going! Was she alive? Dying? What about the sparkling? A little bit ago he saw the doctor's bring in their other son's body from the facility where new shells are created and maintained until the spark is fit for transfer. Since the facility told them a couple orns ago their son's spark needed another decaorn, he knew his son was in serious trouble. Either he was dying and the doctors were trying to transfer him into his body as a last resort, or Charger was dying and they were trying to move him to a functioning body before Charger's deactivated. Either way, moving a sparkling early into their body had serious repercussions. His fists balled up and he stalked around in a tight circle again, momentarily distracting Prowl enough to shake him from his foggy haze.

Prowl opened his mouth but quickly shut it again, refraining from asking his tense sparker about his carrier. He didn't know why all these transformers were here and why he couldn't see his carrier. Why were random mechs or femmes suddenly crying out in pain, keening wildly before the doctors came out? Whatever unforeseen ailments hurting them forced the medical staff to pull them away.

Prowl had asked Blacksmoke about it earlier, but Blacksmoke silenced him. Now was not the time to explain bonds. Virtually everyone who had a sparkling or trying for one had a bond, and he recognized a few faces of Prowl's playmates' creators since they left pediatrics. They hadn't recognized him because they were suffering in the wake of a bondmate's death and he made sure to maneuver Prowl away before he recognized them as well.

There! His optics snapped up to see the doctors and nurses leaving Charger's room. He practically flew at the last mech, catching him in his hands. The doctor was startled and immediately tried to struggle as Prowl ran up. Peaking around, Prowl noticed some of the nurses looked grim – one looked like he was about to keen.

"How are they?"

"Whose 'they'? Are you Charger's mate?" The doctor gasped.

"Yes!"

He dropped the doctor. "Can't you tell?" He knew what the doctor was implying but he didn't care. Pushing the doctor aside, he busted through the door to see Charger hooked up to more lines than he'd ever seen on any one mechanism. She wasn't moving. Off to the side on another berth was their sparkling's shell, also hooked up to machines. '_Oh please, Primus…_'

_Beep._

Blacksmoke dropped to his knees, taking Charger's hand in his when he heard her machine beep. He struggled for a moment reining back his emotions to keep from keening in relief. Prowl climbed onto Charger's abdomen, sitting up and staring inquisitively at her face. He wanted to get closer but there were a lot of tubes and lines in his way particularly in her chassis.

The doctor entered, standing in the doorway. Blacksmoke tilted his head to the side just enough to see him, "When will she be able to come home?"

"It's gonna be a while… Because of the sparkling…"

_'There hasn't been a second set of beeps,' _the realization dawned on him. But before he could ask him more, he heard the machines whirl up and Charger mumbling something incoherently.

"Carrier?" Prowl tried to reach up and give her a hug, but there was too many lines in his way. He sat back down upset he couldn't give her the hug he knew she needed.

Blacksmoke turned back to her after telling the doctor to get lost. He was of no value to Blacksmoke now that Charger was awake. Charger came around, focusing on him. He'd never seen such despair in her optics before. She couldn't stand looking into his optics anymore and she broke contact as she started keening. "The sparkling… they – they couldn't save him…"

For a moment Blacksmoke felt as though the ground swallowed him whole. He couldn't see anything and his spark had fallen down through his peds. '_No, I– he couldn't be. Nooo…_' He looked across her, at the vacant body. Those optics are never going to light up.

Hearing the sadness in his carrier's voice, Prowl did the only thing he could do; he hugged her midsection. What did she mean his brother couldn't be saved and why did his sparker look like that?

They stayed like for a while, with Prowl hugging his keening carrier and Blacksmoke holding her hand as he stared vacantly towards the body, until Charger's taxed systems started initiating her recharge sequence. Unable to fight it much longer, Charger turned her dimmed optics towards Blacksmoke. "You should take Prowl and go home." Blacksmoke looked like he was about to protest, but she cut him off, urging him to take Prowl home and get some rest. "Please take Prowl home; he's been through a lot – more than any sparkling should ever go through. He needs you to take care of him."

Blacksmoke was vaguely aware of him nodding. He couldn't feel anything at the moment and everything surrounding him seemed surreal. He remembered watching Charger fall offline and he remembered pulling Prowl off of her despite his protests. Somewhere in the back of his CPU he was aware of the softly keening sparkling in his arms as he took them home although he could only see the one he'd never get to hold, unaware of his surrounds. He didn't even realize they were home until _after _they passed through the front door. A small voice in the back of his mind told him to put Prowl in his own berth with some energon. Walking to Prowl's room he placed him down and rubbed his helm for a few astroseconds.

"I'll be back in a moment with some energon for recharge," Blacksmoke murmured. Prowl nodded before curling up on his side. He was still lethargic from those drugs. Blacksmoke idly wondered when they'd wear off before turning away, taking the other hall leading towards the kitchen like he had hundreds of times before. Fate or Primus must have had a cruel, twisted sense of humor because he passed by the former office room, now converted into a second bedroom. The door was open and he could see the sparkling's crib inside.

It wasn't right! He had done everything to protect and care for his family! He stopped fighting with Charger, helped care for her when the sparkling's energy was acting up, and tried his best to be understanding and patient with Prowl! His sparkling didn't deserve to die because someone else was interested only in furthering themselves. His entire job was about protecting the innocent civilians but he could don't that for his own sparkling! He failed his family at something he was supposed to be good at! He wasn't there – he couldn't even arrive there in time once the alarm sounded. He should've taken Prowl, should've found someone to take her shift, or should've convinced Charger to stay home since the sparkling was acting up. He should've done all these things but instead he was more concerned about getting some recharge and going to work!

Suddenly filled with rage, Blacksmoke couldn't take it anymore and smashed the nearest sparkling item next to him. It wasn't enough. He smashed the next thing he saw, roaring about the injustice of it all.

Hearing a crash, Prowl flinched. What was that noise and where was his energon? His sparker was bellowing. Was his sparker hurt? Concerned, Prowl slowly climbed off his berth and unsteadily ran towards the sounds of furniture snapping. He stopped short of the door in his brother's room when he saw his sparker.

"Sparker?" He didn't seem to hear Prowl. Carefully, Prowl entered the room as he stepped past his brother's broken stuff to see if his sparker was hurt.

Blacksmoke could barely see anymore and the only thing he could hear besides him were the sounds of furniture and toys crumpling under his attack. There! There was that inferno-blasted crib! Screaming at the crib, Blacksmoke grabbed it and smashed it in half. Each half was tossed off to the side where they smashed into the wall breaking into pieces. He paused, looking for any furniture that dared to mock him. Against the back wall was the last fully-intact item – the dresser where blankets, washcloths, and aid kits were kept. He smashed his fist in several times, breaking the top. Why wouldn't it crumple beneath his force and anger? Feeling his fury grow, Blacksmoke grabbed it and, with a growl, flung it with all his might against the opposite wall. It smashed to pieces, raining down on the floor.

Nearly a breem later, Blacksmoke managed to calm down to the point he could think a little more clearly. Although he was still shaking a bit, he started moving towards the front door. There were a lot of broken pieces between him and the door, giving him a small sense of satisfaction as he stepped on them.

'_What the slag…?_' He paused in mid-stomp, his foot hanging in the air. There was a little blue-black hand curled up, sticking out from the pile he was about to stomp on. Horror seeped into his circuits. '_What have I done?_' Blacksmoke fell to his knees and began frantically digging his unconscious sparkling out. It seemed like he couldn't pull his sparkling out fast enough from underneath all the heavy pieces, but he finally managed to drag Prowl free. Anxiously examining him, he saw many of Prowl's previously patched up wounds re-opened along with new ones. Energon was dripping out of his mouth and two of his little fingers were missing. The patched injury on his doorwing didn't just reopen – it tore through more of his wing, almost shredding a portion of the appendage.

Mortified, Blacksmoke clutched his offline son to his chest. '_Primus, what do I do?_' The hospital and medical centers were still full with those affected by the attack. Medical clinics on the far side of Praxus were even assisting. What could he do? '_Juniper! He had medical training – surely he'd know!_'

::Juniper!:: He frantically hailed his friend.

A brief moment passed before his friend finally responded, a tad groggy. ::'Ello? What's up at this joor? Is somethin' wrong with Charger?::

::I need you over here right now! Prowl's critically hurt and I don't know what to do!::

::Okay! I'll be there as fast as I can!:: Juniper's alarmed voice cut out.

It felt like vorns passed before he heard Juniper banging on his door although it probably was only a couple breems. Blacksmoke looked the couch where he moved his son before rushing to open the door. He didn't even let Juniper step in before grabbing him and yanking him over to the couch.

Juniper didn't like what he saw. Granted, no one liked to see a sparkling or even a fully-upgraded mech in this state. That aside, Prowl didn't look even remotely well. Juniper knew he didn't have the expertise to fix these. "I can slow down some of the surface energon leaks, but he needs medical help from a trained professional right away."

Juniper started right away as a million thoughts raced through Blacksmoke's head. Only one thought really stuck: '_If we take him to a medical clinic, they'll arrest me._' Crimes against sparklings carried heavy punishments.

'_Not to mention you'll never be able to work again and no one will respect the sparkling-beater Enforcer,_' a small, selfish voice told him. He took a deep breath, forcing air into his systems to cool them down before speaking. "Juniper, I can't take him to a med clinic. They'll ID him and arrest me after investigating his injuries."

Juniper paused; that was a problem. Mulling it over, an idea popped up. "I can take him to one of the med clinics across town. It's the one med students attend for field-experience training. Since they're one of the best equipped medical facilities for the flight towers destruction, a lot of the more critically-injured mechs were sent there. Last I heard it was still mayhem over there. I could probably sneak him in and no one would have time to properly ID him." '_Not to mention he looks like field damage_,' he thought wryly.

"Do it! He doesn't have time for us to think about it!"

Not exactly needing a second reminder, Juniper grabbed him and took off. Somehow he managed to transform and place Prowl inside in one fluid motion without hurting him. As soon as his transformation was complete, he raced out of there at full speed.

By the time he reached the training med clinic he was busy figuring what to say. So busy, in fact, he nearly crashed into the emergency exit. He skidded to a halt near the entrance, almost knocking a few non-medical personel down.

"Please! Someone help my sparkling passenger!" A femme came around and pulled Prowl out, setting him down on a gurney and rushing him inside.

"What happened?" She snapped at him as she began prepping him.

"I found him in the streets by the destroyed towers! I couldn't get him over to the main medical facility, so I thought you were the next best thing."

She cursed, stopping the energon flow as fast as possible while simultaneously setting up an emergency supply directly into one of his lines. The energon mixture wasn't meant for sparklings but it'd have to do for now. She opened a comm to one of the directors, requesting a level 3 med student with some sparkling knowledge before speaking to the mech.

"Was he online when you found him?"

"No."

"So we don't know what his designation is?" She opened a comm to put a missing transformer report out on a blue mech sparkling when a green had came down, firmly grasping her arm.

He spoke, looking squarely into her optics. "He came online for a moment and I managed to get a designation out of him before he fell back offline. He said it was Clipper."

Looking at him for a moment, she muttered, "okay." He seemed awfully direct with that response, as if he didn't want her to question him. She had her doubts right from the beginning. For starters, there appeared to be reopened wounds. However, while she suspected that he was hiding something, it didn't matter right now. Moments later she got a response from the director informing her that a student had been sent to her location.

It didn't take long for the student to show up. Knowing exactly how good this student was, she pushed the gurney at him. "Ratchet, this sparkling is in need of surgical repairs and some of his energon lines are cut. I've placed temporary patches on to keep them from leaking, but I can see energon pooling at some of the patches, so they could burst at any breem. There's also some internal damage and debris in his right doorwing, along with a lot of surface damaged and cracked dermal plates." She privately commed him about what Juniper told her, adding her suspicions before disappearing.

"Got it!" Ratchet yelled back at her, pulling the gurney into the nearest available operational room. Juniper closely followed him. There was no way a mech this young could know what he was doing on Prowl.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he demanded as the student grabbed his first tool.

The student actually snarled at him. "Of course I know what I'm doing! 'Sides, why do you care about some sparkling you found on the street?" Mech, did that student know how to glare.

"Just making sure. Don't want some innocent sparkling suffering at the hands of an ill-equipped student." There was no way this slightly-scary student was going to intimidate Juniper. He was an Enforcer, for crying out. No pansy-aft healer was gonna get the best of a warrior like him.

"The only thing 'ill-equipped' in here is your CPU! Now, you said his designation was Clipper?"

"Yeah. Don't call me 'ill-equipped,' you – "

"Good. That's all I need from you. Now get your useless aft out of here!"

Oh pit no. He wasn't about to be bossed around like that. "Excuse me, but I will NOT be – "

"I SAID GET YOUR USELESS AFT OUT OF HERE, YOU GLITCHED MORON! OR _I'LL_ THROW IT OUT! WITH OR WITHOUT THE REST OF YOU!" The med student actually stopped what he was doing to violently shake his tool at him.

Juniper jumped and quickly back tracked until he was safely outside the doors. So maybe the healer wasn't _quite_ a pansy.

/-/

Half way through the repairs Ratchet realized he needed to wake the sparkling up. Whoever this sparkling really was, he had unusual circuitry and modifications in his cranial unit. Since he couldn't pull up any files on a blue mech sparkling named "Clipper" and the mysterious mech was nowhere to be seen, it meant he couldn't properly repair the damages. '_Spectacular,_' Ratchet growled. He had two options: wing it, or try to wake the sparkling with the right medication mixture of painkillers and sedatives – also hard to do since he didn't know how the sparkling handled them. Too much and the sparkling would go right back to recharge. Too little and the sparkling would be in pain.

Setting up the machines for the standard dosage meant to keeping sparklings in a semi-coherent state, he slowly pulled the sparkling into consciousness with the machines. He didn't want to turn on everything; just a few systems would be enough. The sparkling came online slowly, mumbling about wanting to see his carrier. Ratchet fudged around a little with the drugs, trying to get the right mixture for the sparkling.

"Carrier?" The sparkling's voice was a little clearer now. Hopefully he was in that state where he should be lucid enough for a few simple questions but not enough for his systems to register any pain or errors.

However, Ratchet was forced to rethink that one as the youngling whimpered and tried to curl onto his side. The sparkling cried out as he managed to jerk a few wires, despite being held in place. Ratchet quickly readjusted the mixture as he rubbed the sparkling's helm, trying to comfort him. Bedside manner was never his forte, but he tried to manage with a distressed sparkling. Once the sparkling showed no signs of pain, Ratchet moved over so he could see the sparkling's face better. "Hi there, what's your name?"

"… Where's my carrier?" He sounded disorientated and confused. Was this sparkling _that_ sensitive to pain killers and sedatives?

"I don't know, but I can find out if you tell me your name," Ratchet urged. '_Please tell me your name. All I need is your name and I can find your design in the system. Assuming neither of your creators did any unauthorized changes…_'

"… Where's my carrier? We hav'ta go to the park today."

"What's your name, sparkling?" Ratchet gripped the sparkling's shoulder, trying to bring him to reality.

"We always go to the park on Mecredi orns…" the little voice trailed.

Ratchet paused; today was Jeudi. '_His memory circuits are scrambled…_' Ratchet suffered. It could be the head trauma or it could be the drugs. Only testing when he was fully awake and repaired would tell. Yippe.

"CARRIER!" The little sparkling suddenly screamed, arching his back and trying to thrash. Ratchet moved quickly, trying to restrain the little mech without causing injury or getting tangled in the lines. The sparkling kept screaming "carrier" over and over, continuing to thrash about.

"You need to calm down!" Ratchet begged. He tried to soothe the sparkling but it wasn't working. In a moment of desperation he cried out, "Your carrier is here!"

The little sparkling cried one last time before pausing. He collapsed, moaning. '_Come on, just gimme a name!_' Ratchet silently begged. He wasn't accustomed to begging but he didn't care. He didn't want the sparkling online any longer, but he needed his name!

"Carrier… she's 'urt…"

"She's right outside for you. Just gimme your name and I can bring her in."

Turning his head a little, the sparkling looked at Ratchet for a moment. Ratchet held his breath. '_Come on…_' After holding his gaze for a moment, the sparkling put his head down and began to softly keen. Ratchet bent down and did the only thing he could come up with; he gave the sparkling a hug. The injured sparkling gasped and buried his head into Ratchet's shoulder, keening harder. Ratchet could hear him mumbling between his ragged breaths about being scared, never finding his carrier or brother again, and someone's optics "staying black" despite his attempts to wake him up. Ratchet murmured his own soft words, trying to calm down the sparkling. About a bream after coming online, the sparkling was finally calm if not subdued. Ratchet gave the youngling's hand a friendly squeeze before speaking.

"So what's your name?"

The sparkling looked up at him and then grimaced. "My head feels funny."

"I know it feels funny. I'm trying to make it better but I don't know what's different about it."

"M' carrier said it was a sim-u-waiter add-in," responded the sluggish voice, a sign the drugs were pushing him back into recharge. Ratchet paused; okay, that was getting somewhere. It was rare, but some sparklings were fitted with a simulator-support system when they're first created. No simulators were actually installed until the first full-body upgrade, but sparkling's with simulator-support systems had better chances of developing more advanced CPUs and they were already familiar with simulators when most struggled to understand them. Simulators usually served for Enforcers, engineers, tacticians, scientists, and business mechs. Whoever went through all that trouble really wanted him in one of those professions.

An idea struck Ratchet but before he had time to ask, the little mech was in recharge again. He sighed before returning all the medical systems back to their original settings. Whoever 'Clipper' really was clearly had a drug sensitivity and no use would come out of waking him again. Hopefully the little shred of information was enough.

/-/

Ratchet stopped, relaxing for a moment as the repairs on the sparkling were finally done. Sure, the sparkling looked like a goblin from the lack of paint, but otherwise he was good as new. Now all he had to do was switch the monitors and equipment so the sparkling could come out of recharge _the right way_. Placing his last few tools down, he turned around and leaned back against a counter. Who would harm a sparkling like this? What was all that about his carrier? He'd never seen a sparkling so terrified before. During his repairs, he came to the conclusion there was no way all this done in that attack. For one, the sparkling had definitely been beaten. While there were sparklings harmed in the attacked, none of them were reported to have any contact with the rebels. Speaking of those sparklings, his other injuries told him that this little one _had _been there, but not when the green mech said so. Was he one of them – the sparklings in the orn-care center? He thought they were still all in the pediatrics department for 12-joor observation for possible debris poisoning. He'd have to send a request in for that for verification.

The only plausible explanation for his injuries while still sticking to the mech's claims was that "Clipper" was one of the orn-care sparklings who somehow managed to get away on his own, where he stumbled around for a while until at some point someone patched him up. After that the sparkling was left alone for a while before some moral-less street thug jumped him. Yeah, right. And turbofoxes covered in a shinny golden metallic dust would come out of his aft, singing merry little songs.

'_Stop digressing_,' Ratchet scolded himself.

Ratchet grunted before returning his attention to the still offline sparkling. He wasn't a detective; his job was to finish the repairs by pulling this sparkling "Clipper" online for clearance testing. His report would go to whatever detective his superiors talk to.

For the next couple of breems, Ratchet worked on a monitor overseeing Clipper's systems, informing him which systems were on and which weren't. After initiating the program to fully online all the sparkling's system and remove the medications over the next two breems, Ratchet took a moment to assess his own status. A report came back informing him that refueling was highly recommended. Ratchet looked back for a moment at the sparkling double checking everything to verify it was going accordingly. When everything cleared, Ratchet stepped out for some energon. He could grab some energon and return with it well before the two breems were up. It's not like anything bad was going to happen to his patient in that 1, 1.5 breems because he wasn't there.

At least that's what he thought until he returned and found the room empty.

/-/

Juniper hid just outside the room for several joors, waiting for the med student to leave. He had to get Prowl out of there before he woke up. So he waited, praying to Primus that the student would just step out for a moment.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the student left. As soon as he was out of Juniper's view, Juniper snuck in and snatched Prowl up, carefully prying away all the wires.

Apparently most transformers don't sneak out of the facility because no one paid him any heed as they left. Juniper had to carry Prowl away until Prowl finally onlined because he couldn't manage to pull off the transformation trick twice.

When Prowl woke he couldn't remember anything. As his visual center finally managed to make sense from what his optics were relaying, he realized his sparker's friend was carrying him. Prowl immediately became confused as to why his sparker's friend would have him. And why did his body feel sore and stiff?

Wriggling in Juniper's arms, Prowl managed to twist himself enough that Juniper had to put him down or else risk dropping Prowl on his cranial unit. He figured the sparkling had enough damage for one orn.

As soon as Prowl adjusted himself more comfortably on his peds, he reached for his throbbing doorwing but stopped short. Why were two of his fingers unpainted? He clenched his hand, wondering why those two fingers moved slowly, as if they hadn't been worn in. Then he noticed his right leg – why did his leg look almost new?

Juniper quietly watched the sparkling, noticing the perplexed expression on his face as he tried out replaced or repaired parts. He did have to give the student credit; no one would know the sparkling had been damaged if not for the splashes of bare metal and a thoroughly thrashed paint job. Ah well – that was an easy fix.

Prowl looked up at him, his hands still out, his puzzled expression asking his silent question.

"Uhh…" Juniper knelt down, placing a hand on Prowl's shoulder. "What do you remember?"

"Getting ready to play at the park." Prowl's optics widened. Why did his vocal unit sound so static?

'_The sparkling lost an entire day?_' Juniper pulled Prowl's attention up to him, trying to keep the concern out of his face. "You were with your carrier earlier today, but there was an accident. You're both okay but she has to stay somewhere else tonight and you need a repaint." 'Please _believe that_.'

Prowl looked down at his hands again. He guessed that made sense but why did his fingers feel stiff? And why couldn't he access his memory files? He frowned, concentrating harder on his memory search.

Seeing Prowl's face knit together in concentration, Juniper immediately guessed what he was trying to do prompting him to shake Prowl the tiniest bit. "Uh, hey, Prowl. Let's get you back home to Blacksmoke, okay?" He transformed and Prowl climbed in. Juniper sent a private comm to Blacksmoke alerting him to their arrival, but Juniper still took his time getting back.

By the time they returned, Blacksmoke had calmed down. He was feeling numb again but not for the same reasons as before. He had some time to really think as his family was gone thanks to his screw ups. In the last few joors he came to decision. While he felt calm and resolved, he also felt hollow. There wasn't much left for him really anymore, was there? His family was broken and it had been his own doing.

So as his son and friend entered the dimly-light apartment (apparently he never re-engaged the lock), he kept his back to them and his arms crossed.

"Hey Blacksmoke, we're back."

"Thank you."

Juniper hesitated. Blacksmoke was dismissing him but he didn't feel right going.

::You okay?:: He sent him a private message so Blacksmoke could talk freely without risk scaring or reminding the sparkling of the day's transgressions.

::I'm fine. I need to talk to Prowl alone. Can you come back in a joor?::

::Uh, yeah.:: Juniper felt uneasy, but nonetheless left. Prowl looked up curiously at his sparker. Maybe his sparker knew why there was a huge gap in his memory files?

"Your brother died today. Do you understand what that means?" Blacksmoke spoke as soon as Juniper left, sounding distant.

Prowl was confused. What was "dead" and how did it happen to his brother? What…

The memories suddenly flooded in, taking over for a moment as Prowl relived everything up to when they left Charger in the hospital. His spark began to burn and a great pain welled up inside of him. Skycracker… Carrier… Brother?

He put his unmarred hand over his spark, trying to wish the pain away as he looked up at his sparker. Blacksmoke wasn't looking back but he didn't have to. He was looking out through the balcony door, into the darkened city. During these few joors the city grids powered down to the lowest required setting for its inhabitants to safely travel and work as most transformers were actually recharging. Nobody walked around and virtually no sounds could be heard. Blacksmoke secretly cherished this time because his CPU seemed clearer only when the world around him appeared still. He could examine his thoughts and problems exactly as they were with nothing around to mettle with them. Like now – he laid down his problems and saw them and himself for what they truly were and could no longer deny them.

Upon seeing his sparkling's face reflected in the door, he knew that Prowl did, in fact, _not_ understand. His gaze shifted from his sparkling's reflection to the stars where his other son was now. "You see those little lights out there in the sky? That's where Primus lives. Sometimes a spark leaves a body but it can't return. When that happens, Primus opens up his home to those lost sparks. The lights guide them into his arms so he can comfort them. That's where your brother is. He's living with Primus now."

When a spark leaves a body but can't return? Was that what his carrier meant when she told him that his brother was in her chassis? Did that mean his brother was gone and couldn't come see him?

"He lives there because I couldn't save him," Blacksmoke continued heedless of his sparkling's confusion, "because I was selfish. Like with you." Blacksmoke glanced down at his feet before returning his gaze back to the stars. "I was selfish with how I treated you. I wanted you to be a certain way and it didn't matter what you wanted because I knew I was right. I was laying out the right path for you and it would protect you. At least that's what I kept telling myself. Truth was I wanted another me. I didn't like who you were becoming because it wasn't what I wanted to become. I hindered your growth and happiness for my own selfish greed.

"I tried changing with your brother's existence, but it wasn't all for the family. You kept trying to go down your own path instead of mine, although I could see you struggling between being happy and making me happy. When I found out about your brother, I didn't feel the need to pressure you as much anymore because I no longer had only you to be the 'other' me – I could try again with your brother and maybe get it right this time." Blacksmoke's air vents vibrated harshly as he laughed at his own absurdity. "'Get it right.' I've been such a fool. Listen to me Prowl when I say there's nothing wrong with you. If you became an Enforcer I would be beyond ecstatic, but I want you to be happy.

"Your pain and struggling has been from my own doing – same with your carrier's struggles. I demanded much from her and I didn't care all that a great deal about it. If she was safe and the sparkling she carried was safe, then that's all I needed to know. This morning when she asked me to take you so she could work; I told her I couldn't because I couldn't get out of my shift. Truth of the matter is that I could have easily gotten out of it so I could stay home with you, but I didn't want to give up what's been my passion. I figured she wasn't really going to struggle if you were there so I could still have what I wanted. Not that I asked.

"I also knew a colleague whose mate works with your carrier – she doesn't know that tho'. I never bothered telling her because I knew if she knew then she'd ask me to contact him about whether or not he could go in for her. And if that mech went in for her, then his mate – my colleague – would probably have to stay home with their sparklings. Which meant our team would be down one member and we wouldn't be allowed to go on patrol. Since I love being an Enforcer, I couldn't let that happen.

"So…" sighed Blacksmoke, "because I love my job too much, I put my family's health and happiness at risk. And you all paid for that today," his voice trailed off. Blacksmoke stood there for a moment, feeling a flicker of emotion at what he had to say next. "Your brother died and your carrier was forced to feel his death after watching her friends die. You had to witness and experience things that no sparkling should even know. Because… because I can't think straight when it comes to anything between me and my job. I know one day I'll die, but I don't really care so long as I get to keep working as long as possible and

"After we came home today, I couldn't stop thinking about two things: my failure to protect him and my goal. It… the feelings I could sense were eating at me until I snapped, seeing your brother's room. I was so busy drowning in my own selfish pain that I didn't care about what was around me until I was done."

Prowl's memory came back to him with a jolt. He could remember his terror as the furniture was thrown around him as he tried to reach his sparker to comfort him. Then his sparker threw something big and it broke on top of him.

"As if you didn't suffer enough from me, I nearly killed you." Blacksmoke laughed brokenly, "Again. Twice in one day." Shaking his head ruefully, he continued on.

"I'd like to think that these realizations will help me become a better mech, but I know they won't. My coding, my passion … they all drive me to that point over and over again. It's so easy to trick my own self while I do it. I can't even promise my family's safety _from me_. So… so I've decided to do what Enforcers do: eliminate the threat." Blacksmoke finally turned around, kneeling down in front of Prowl and put one hand on his shoulder while the other hand lightly grasped his chin. "I can't stand the thought of hurting you both because I can't get over myself. I hope in time you and Charger forgive me, but I'd rather you never forgive me than one of you die thanks my greed."

For the first time in Prowl's memory, Blacksmoke pulled him into a tight embrace. He could hear his sparker nearly keen as he hugged his son one last time. "I love you," he gasped into Prowl's audio.

Prowl wrapped his little arms as tightly as he could around his sparker. "Love you too." He tried hard to hold back his keening like his sparker, but he was struggling despite using all his might. He couldn't fully grasp what was going on but that didn't stop the bad feeling in his chest.

Blacksmoke, meanwhile, couldn't believe what he was about to do. He never thought he'd be this kind of creator, but he also didn't think he'd be the kind he was now. He should been cherishing his gift instead of harming him over and over again until he was nearly gone. His other gift was gone because of him – he wouldn't make it two for two.

His system started revving and he breathed in deeply to calm them down, telling himself he couldn't drag it on any longer. Giving Prowl one final squeeze, he pulled away until Prowl was nearly an arm's distance away.

"So remember that no matter what you decide to do with your life, I'll always be happy for you," Blacksmoke said quietly as he stood up to leave. Prowl watched him go, trying to make sense of it. As Blacksmoke clicked the door open, it finally sunk in.

"No!" He screamed, running towards his sparker. He launched himself at his sparker's leg, grabbing it and clamping down. "No!"

"Prowl…" Blacksmoke could feel a pang in his spark.

"Don't go," Prowl begged, "I'll be good! I promise! I'll do whatever you say!"

"No, that's not… that's not right, Prowl. That's not what I want anymore. " He pried Prowl off gently, placing him by the entrance table and kneeled down one more time. "It wasn't right that you did whatever _I_ wanted. It's not right and I don't think I can stop hurting you like this. Unfortunately, this isn't the first time I've ever hurt someone important in my life for my job." Blacksmoke sighed and gave Prowl's shoulder a quick squeeze before standing back up. Prowl tightly hugged the table leg next to him while he quivered. Blacksmoke subspaced a datapad and placed it on the table before leaving.

He didn't look back.

Prowl watched Blacksmoke leave and the door clicked shut, leaving him completely alone in the silent apartment. Prowl did the only thing he could think of now that no one was around for him to be brave for. He started keening as hard as he could.

/-/

'_What the pit?_' Juniper came back a little after a joor later and found the door unlocked. Leaning against the door, he listened for any sounds. When he heard some mech's ragged keening, he immediately opened the door and stepped in. There to his right was Prowl curled up on his knees and keening. '_What the slaggin' pit?_'

"Prowl, Prowl, shhh… shhh…" Juniper dropped to his knees and gathered the distraught sparkling into his arms, rocking back onto his heels as he tried to soothe him. But Prowl just cried harder. What was going on?

Prowl couldn't stop. This wasn't the mech who should be holding him! Prowl tried to push Juniper away, but Juniper just clamped down, continuing to rock him. Prowl continued to fight Juniper while keening until exhaustion finally took over and he collapsed. He quieted down and curled into Juniper's shoulder, feeling like everyone had left him.

Juniper rubbed his helm and back, quietly speaking comforting words like he would for his own creation. After feeling Prowl relaxed a little, he asked him what happened.

"Sparker – sparker – ," Prowl shudder, "left."

"What?"

Prowl pointed to the table and Juniper stood up. Lying there on the tray was a lonely looking datapad. Juniper had a rather ominous feeling about it. Shifting Prowl in his arms a bit, he brought it closer so he could read.

'_Juniper:_

_Thank you for all your help today, but I need you to do me one more favor. I need you to take Prowl with you until Charger heals. I can't take care of him or my family anymore. While you were with Prowl at the hospital I realized the depths of my own depravity and sent in a request for reassignment. I think Primus himself doesn't want me here anymore either because they sent back approval only a joor later. I can't tell you where I'm staying until my departure for assisting a special ops team since they didn't even tell me. But I do know it's what I want._

_I'm sure you think ill of me because, quite frankly, I would too. But I know what I'm doing. There are plenty of things I've never told you or Charger – things that would make you understand why I came to this decision, but would also disgust both of you. But those reasons don't really matter anymore because I'm finally doing something about it._

_Please don't disturb Charger; she needs her rest. I've arranged it so she'll know when she's feeling stronger._

_Thank you.  
- Blacksmoke'_

Juniper just stared at for a solid breem, struggling to digest what he just read. '_Pit spawned, carrier interfacing, slag sucking, no good –_ ' Juniper called him every foul name he could come up, including a few that didn't make sense. He wanted to smash the slag out of the datapad but he managed to reframe for Prowl's sake.

"Prowl?" The sparkling turned his head slightly to look at him. "What did he say to you?"

Prowl's air vents hitched for a moment. "He said he nearly killed me today and that he needed to be away from me so bad things don't happen."

'_What kind of slag is that? And why would you telling a_ sparkling _that? Especially after – oh, frag it, I forgot to tell him about Prowl's memory loss! Well, it sounds like he's got it all back now! Yay…._' Juniper thought sarcastically, mentally slapping himself for not giving a warning to Blacksmoke so the blow could've been cushioned a little.

But there was nothing he could do about it now except comfort the sparkling in his arms.

/-/

Prowl laid on his make-shift berth inside Juniper's home, looking up at the ceiling and its glowing stick-on stars. Snapclip was next to him, completely zonked out. The door was closed, but he could still hear the hushed conversation Juniper and his mate were having. Other than picking out his name a few times, Prowl couldn't understand a word. Didn't really matter if he could or couldn't; it all amounted to the same – he was sort of a foster sparkling until his carrier was strong enough to leave the hospital. According to part of the conversation he heard earlier, that would be a while. They were also wondering how in the pit Blacksmoke could leave his sparkmate. Prowl didn't know what a sparkmate was. His creators called each other mates – was that the same thing? He'd have to ask his carrier when she came back.

But until that orn came the few things Prowl was able to bring were piled on the floor in the corner, next to his mat. It pretty much consisted of paint (Juniper's mate promised he'd clean Prowl up tomorrow), a handful of toys, and a hologram. Prowl turned over and snatched the picture before returning to his original position. This hologram was taken only a few decaorns ago, right after he learned about his little brother. Charger was holding him and Blacksmoke stood slightly apart. Both Charger and Prowl were in a good mood that day at the park's festival, but Blacksmoke had been annoyed with Prowl because he'd gotten upset at the other sparklings who'd pushed him over. Blacksmoke chided him that day for not standing up for himself, but Prowl was scared of the big sparkling.

Thinking back on it, Prowl absently brushed his thumb over it. What if he had been brave enough to stand up for himself? His sparker said he couldn't take care of the family or stop their pain. What if Prowl had been a better sparkling and helped him? Could Prowl have stopped it if he stood up for himself better?

He didn't know but it wouldn't hurt to try. Maybe if he did all those things his sparker would see that his family was happy again and then he could come back.

Feeling determined, Prowl put the picture down and curled up before going into recharge with a small, hopeful smile.

_

* * *

_

_Thanks to Prowl's 'theft' Ratchet will never again leave medbay without at least one medical person left behind when there's a patient. Oh, how it all ties together .And they don't even know it._

_This is sort of the end of "Part 1", if you will, of the 'past' chapters (actually it's kinda the same thing for the 'present' chapters as well). I think I've scarred Prowl for life only a 1/3 of the way through. Yay! :p_

_Anyways, I thank you all for the reviews and alerts. Any more reviews would be welcome, especially since it's my birthday in a couple days:) _


	8. Ch 3

_~2 Decaorns Ago_

"And what's this, Almighty Megatron?" Starscream's voice sneered. "Has our Illustrious Leader gone soft, actually following the whims of some scientist?" Thundercracker and Skywarp both knew Starscream was just stalling. None of the flyers liked the idea of entering catacombs destroyed vorns ago. Who's to say the tunnels won't collapse on them when they're deep in? Thundercracker shifted slightly, unnerved at the thought. If he was separated from Skywarp he might be trapped there for a while.

"What's wrong, Starscream? Feeling a little inferior, perhaps, that someone finally managed to have _real_ scientific use for me?" Megatron mocked. "Now let's get moving." Megatron descended into the tunnels with the Constructicons in tow. The three Seekers hung back for a few moments until even the brightly-colored Constructicons began to fade from sight.

Starscreamed snarled. "We're not falling behind those pathetic Constructicons." He marched in, Skywarp and Thundercracker reluctantly right behind him. They were probably only a third of the way through before a loud snap echoed through the corridor. Thundercracker's circuits immediately froze and Skywarp moved ever-so-slightly towards him. Starscream looked ready to transform at any astrosecond and take off. Just as Thundercracker was about to suggest turning around and finding some excuse later, an Autobot tumbled over a fallen wall.

"Hey, it's just a stupid Autogeek," Skywarp commented, trying to mask his relief. Starscream scoffed at the Autobot and roughly jerked him off the downed wall and glaring into the disorientated Autobot's optics. Seeing no visual cues of recognition Starscream sneered in disgust and threw the Autobot down, spilling him all over the floor by his trine mate's feet.

"The fool doesn't even recognize who we are or where he is."

"Yeah," chuckled Skywarp as the Autobot by his peds moaned, "Autobots aren't good for anything anyways except for workin' out some energy." He kicked the Autobot in the face. "Morons."

Thundercracker thought it was rather unfair to beat up a defenseless Autobot but he wasn't about to stop it. "Yeah right, morons. Probably can't even figure why his face hurts."

Starscream snickered in response. "Let's find out." Without any more warning Starscream kicked the injured mech several times, further cracking the Autobot's armor. However, the Autobot only moaned denying Starscream his satisfaction. "Nyuh!" Starscream pulled the Autobot back up and started tearing into his arm.

"Starscream!" Megatron's voice bellowed through the tunnels. Starscream paused. "Get down here now!"

"Keh," Starscream tossed the Autobot aside. "Guess it's his lucky orn."

"Or not. Chances are he'll die soon anyways from energon loss." Skywarp laughed as they followed Starscream. Thundercracker paused, looking back at the Autobot. Thundercracker was never fond of leaving loose ends around but right now that wasn't his problem.

/-/

"So," Megatron announced his presence to the mass of scientists inside the large underground cavern. They all immediately whirled around and stood at attention. "To whom do I owe this please?" A mech in the middle stepped forward.

"Hello, Lord Megatron," he greeted somewhat shakily, "We've been working on preparing the systems and finishing our analysis for you. Its nearly complete but there's still – "

"Save it. Tell me what you know." Megatron's voice already had a dangerously bored tone.

"Yes." The scientist's voice shook a little more but he managed to get a hold of himself. Thundercracker almost pitted the mech; they'd been urgently summoned up from Earth by a request for Megatron and Starscream with additional support for troops specializing in reconstruction. Not that he asked but Thundercracker was pretty certain Skywarp and him were there only to keep Starscream less twitchy after he learned it was underground. If the mech didn't give Megatron anything considered useful then it'd be the Pit for him for dragging them up here. Pity really, watching Megatron kill some mech whose name he didn't even bother knowing.

"An orn ago there was a battle between our forces and the enemy causing a nearby explosion. Apparently the explosion loosened some of the debris in this cavern and knocked one of the systems back online where it connected to one of our servers. There's no record of any systems being placed in these caverns. In fact, records show these tunnels and caverns were originally only storage units."

"And how exactly does some unregistered ancient system interest me?" Megatron drawled.

"We've been down here analyzing the datalogs and systems to figure out what this really is and, well, you must see this for yourself."

They followed the scientist toward the back of the cavern. Thundercracker couldn't help but look around. For an ancient storage room the contents were unusual. Long glass tubes were pushed against the sides of the walls and he was pretty sure there were berths inside. He couldn't really tell because every single one of them showed some debilitating damage from a partial cave-in. Every now and then he could've sworn he saw a limb connected to the scientists' wires.

"As you can see," the scientist called them to a stop, "this wasn't a simple storage room."

Megatron looked at the stasis lock container in front of him. Inside laid a dormant mech whose design he'd never quite seen before. His overall structure and dull grey paint told Megatron he was a frontline warrior. However, it was the green veins that seemed to _pulse_ that held Megatron's attention. They swept across his body and connected at the base of his cranial unit. Additional veins brushed his helm towards his cranial base along with ancient glyph tattoos. "Who is he?"

"Best we've been able to recover is he's part of an old experimental war program where mechs were reformatted into brute force warriors."

"We had those. I fail to see why a secret program was needed," Starscream quickly interjected.

"These particular warriors were meant to handle anything most the Decepticons at the time couldn't deal with. The program was initiated not long after the start of the war when most of our troops weren't, ah, skilled and brave warriors. To bypass all the time and trouble of training, this program was developed to insure dangerous and effective warriors."

Thundercracker recalled the troops in the early days. He hadn't joined the Decepticons yet but the majority of his city had. Most of the Decepticons were low lives trying to make a name for themselves by picking on the weak. When it came to a real fight however, most of them turned either coward or mindless brawler.

"And how does one 'insure dangerous and effective warriors' without giving them any training?" Starscream sardonically asked. The scientist shifted his feet, hesitant to continue on.

"Out with it! What value is some outdated warrior for me?" Megatron growled.

"They implanted several experimental training programs along with a control device," the scientist cried out flustered. "Whoever was running the experiments forcefully uploaded and reconfigured all the mechs into whatever warrior they wanted. As time went on they continually updated and rewrote core codes to meet their demands. During the experiments they imbedded a program capable of completely override an individual mech's CPU for control. The device actually gives the, ah, user different degrees of control. If the user wanted to keep the mech in a frontline warrior state at any given time they can issue the command. Or if they decide to give the mech basic control over his body but leave all upper-level functions to the user's discretion."

"So anything this warrior does is determined by what I want?" An evil glint shined from Megatron's optic.

"Yes. You can determine what 'mode' he's in – warrior, guard, recharge or refuel – and how much control you allow him once he's in that state."

"Why would they go through all that trouble?" Thundercracker blurted out. The ominous feeling ebbing at his spark grew steadily as he watched the scientist's demeanor. Already he could understand the scientist's behavior: finding a perfectly obedient and effective warrior for Megatron would grant his team a better status within the Decepticon army. However, he was giving someone known for his short and explosive fuse a new weapon – one that wasn't affected by distance, time, events, or pleas.

"The programs were highly volatile because they incorporated experimental weapons and armor. In order to keep their warriors from turning on them they developed the control device. Some of the weaponry and armor they developed doesn't exist even to this orn."

"So what you're telling me is this mech is capable of things no Decepticon or Autobot can do and he'll do whatever I want?" The tone in Megatron's voice sent chills deep into even Starscream's spark.

"Uh, Ye-Yes. We're finished all our initial scans on him and his deactivated comrades and we're still working on the datafiles, but we're ready for the next part. We need to extract and repair him. We don't quite understand what these modifications – " the scientist indicated the green veins " – to his armor does."

"Hook, Scrapper," Megatron called. Both Hook and Scrapper stepped forward. "You know what to do."

"Yes, Megatron. Consider it done," Hook boasted arrogantly.

"Good. I want him fully operational in two decaorns. Not an astrosecond longer, Hook. I won't tolerate any delays." Megatron turned and left, leaving the Constructicons behind. Starscream immediately followed although it was more likely because he wanted to leave than actually be next to Megatron. Skywarp followed suit and Thundercracker slowly moved forward, finally seeing the wrecked forms inside the cylinders.

As he left he could hear one of the scientists say to their lead, "You didn't tell him about the program's failure!"

* * *

Prowl quietly sneaked into his quarters with his datapads after the first set of shifts started, including Jazz's. After the door closed behind him he slowly relaxed feeling safe and secure. Jazz wouldn't be able to yell at him for another 11 joors.

Before Prowl could get any further into his quarters he was tackled from behind and flipped around, his attacker pinning his back against the wall. His optics met with Jazz's glare. Prowl didn't need to see behind the visor to know when the saboteur was glaring. "Wanna explain what 'came up'?"

"Aren't you on duty?" Prowl asked, forcing himself to keeping up normal pretenses despite being attacked and pinned in his own quarters.

"Yeah, and Bumblebee will be happy when I get back. But I ain't leavin' 'til you tell me what's up!"

Prowl refrained from wiggling his arms. He knew Jazz liked getting Prowl off-balanced and Prowl wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. "I'm fine. There was no need for you to cover your shift."

Jazz searched Prowl's face for signs of something wrong. Vorns ago he learned the best way to cut through Prowl's self-preservation façade. So long as he kept Prowl off-balanced the tactician wouldn't recover or hide as quickly. Sometimes it was in his face but more often his doorwings would flicker in certain ways. While his face remained passive his doorwings were faintly twitching. "Uh huh. Still haven't answered my question, Prowler."

Prowl resisted showing any signs of unease with the question; instead he focused on his physical discomfort. "My designation is – once again – Prowl. Prowl, Jazz, _Prowl_. Please let me go. You're pinching my doorwings against the wall." Jazz immediately released Prowl but he didn't back off.

Fixing his glare on Prowl's optics, Jazz spoke pointedly, "I said I ain't leavin' 'til you tell me what's up so you might as well get it out."

Prowl looked for the datapads he had before Jazz's 'greeting' and found them scattered across the floor. Bending down he gathered them up. Once he had them all again he focused on the one with the update Jazz knew nothing about.

"I…" Prowl paused. He told his best friend more than he'd told anyone else but that didn't mean he told him everything. There were certain things he couldn't open up about – not because he didn't trust Jazz but because he couldn't trust _himself_ to say it. The few times in his life since sparkhood he'd expressed himself about something truly troubling him he'd be caught off guard by the unexpected emotional response. Not only that but each time he'd been met with ridicule and laughter. Just the other orn it repeated again when his emotions slipped through his tightly controlled veil as he tried to address the situation. Of course Jazz wasn't the type to do any of those things but he couldn't shake the discomfort with the unexpected that came with honestly expressing himself. Could he really tell Jazz how he felt about his failures as an officer and the SIC?

"I received further information regarding the possible Seeker and Megatron sighting on Cybertron. Since their information suggested Megatron's plans may be carried out soon I felt it was imperative for me to analyze and prepare for the upcoming battle." There. He was neither lying nor giving away too much. He never could bring himself to lie to Jazz. Prowl never liked lying to begin with but with Jazz it felt completely wrong.

Instead of his answer calming Jazz it just made him more upset. He _knew_ Prowl was omitting something. Prowl was clearly upset – well, clearly to him. His doorwings had started subtly twitching again when he spoke; a dead giveaway Prowl wasn't comfortable with what he was saying. Besides, Prowl thrived on devising battle strategies so there had to be something else. "Yea okay, Prowler. By the way I'm having a sparkling with Sideswipe."

Prowl gaped at him and dropped a couple datapads. "Oh wait, I'm _not_ having a sparkling with Sideswipe. I must've left some key words out just like yer explanation did," Jazz said sarcastically. "Look, Prowler. I know you're upset and I _am_ _not_ leavin' 'til I see you feelin' better! So start fillin' in the blanks!"

Prowl sighed; there wasn't any way for him to completely avoid the subject. Succumbing to the situation he gestured the datapads to Jazz. He moved just enough so Prowl could set the remaining datapads on his desk. Jazz picked up and placed the fallen ones on Prowl's desk, allowing him to effectively block the tactician in. Prowl widened his optics realizing he'd just unwittingly given Jazz more control over the situation. Prowl didn't like that; he hated unfamiliar territory and being pinned between his desk and an angry Jazz wasn't exactly in his comfort zone. In fact he'd never been in a situation where Jazz was this close with no way out (the few exceptions in battle were hardly the same). It bothered him and he realized it was more than just being trapped in. But whatever it was refused to enlighten him.

"The information suggests Megatron obtained what he wanted two decaorns ago. So there's no way to prevent him from carrying out his plans. We can only wait now." '_Wait for my failure to further unravel itself_,' Prowl thought morosely.

Jazz scrunched his face in confusion. "Well that sucks, Prowl, but why's it bothering you so much?" He asked as gently as he could. He could see Prowl was stressed so he waited patiently.

"Because…" Prowl tore his gaze away from Jazz and looked at the wall across from Jazz's shoulder. "I was so busy being caught up keeping order in the Ark and finding some measure of relief from the calamity that I completely missed the opportunity to stop it."

"Prowl…" Jazz gently reached out and grasped Prowl's elbow and tugged to bring his attention back to him. "It's okay fer wantin' to feel comfortable in a military base that's effectively yer own home. It's not yer fault they marked it low priority," Jazz murmured quietly. Prowl shifted his gaze back at Jazz's optics.

Prowl shook his head. "I should've done better. I'm the Second-in-Command and I've made such a vital error. I may have endangered our forces because I was busy trying to maintain the Ark and my own sanity and I couldn't even do that right." Prowl caught himself, saying more than he wanted to. He didn't want Jazz to know he was feeling down on himself.

It was evident to Jazz that Prowl didn't mean to let that much information out when Prowl's optics light up and he tried to draw back. Biting back his comment about Prowl losing his sanity long ago, Jazz grasped Prowl's elbow more firmly. "Whadda ya mean, Prowl?" Jazz could almost literally see Prowl retreat into himself to distance himself from the situation. '_Don't think so, Prowler._'

He tugged again on Prowl's elbow, this time a little more forceful. He wasn't going to let Prowl hid from him. He hated feeling of Prowl being so distant from him. "Don't you dare. I hate it when you pull away from me. You really think all the little crap goin' on around the Ark is yer fault? Cuz I'm pretty sure it ain't you pullin' those pranks or startin' the fights." Upon seeing Prowl faintly smile, he continued on. "Do you think the troops see you any differently because all the slag goin' on? Everyone knows it's worse cuz the _entire_ crew is stuck together for the first time in a fraggin' while and we ain't use to dealin' with it. Nobody blames you just because things are tense right now."

Prowl merely shrugged in response – or at least what Jazz considered a shrug for Prowl. It was more of his shoulders struts relaxing momentarily than a shrug. Jazz frowned. Why wasn't he getting through to Prowl? The thought of not being able to help his closest friend worried Jazz. Frowning, Jazz realized part of the issue after seeing Prowl become suddenly passive. "You think they don't respect ya or think less of you since Sideswipe's little prank run." It was more of a statement than a question but he let it hang in the open nevertheless.

Prowl doggedly focused his gaze on the same spot on the wall as before. He tried to find the words for Jazz but he couldn't get them out. Jazz must have been tired of trying to get Prowl's attention because he moved his face back into Prowl's view. '_Jazz always finds a way to get what he wants_,' Prowl thought wryly. '_Might as well tell him_.' Despite his second attempt, however, Prowl still couldn't muster up words that didn't threaten to bring more than he wanted.

Jazz's frowned deepened at the lack of response from Prowl. He could see Prowl's struggle in his optics despite his distant gaze. "They're just surprised to see you show some emotion and they got carried away being stupid with it. Only reason they're fixating on it is to preoccupy themselves with something 'sides the orange walls. Do you really think you can't show _any _emotions around them? I know they didn't prove themselves very well and a few of them will always behave like sparklings but some of us are real friends." Jazz gave Prowl a concerned look. "Do you feel like you can't trust nobody here? Prowler… you do have friends here. Friends who'd knock those idiots around and who'd listen if you ask. But they can't help you if you don't open up first."

At Prowl's continued silence Jazz couldn't help but ask quietly, almost painfully, "Do you really think you can't open up or show any emotion around me?" It dawned on him while he was talking a moment ago that Prowl didn't often tell him anything too personal. The thought Prowl didn't feel comfortable enough to express himself around Jazz hurt him unexpectedly deep.

"No!" Prowl's gaze snapped fully into Jazz's optics. "I don't think like that about you. You are the only mech I can express almost anything personal without fear. You aren't the only one, but…" Prowl didn't quite know how to finish that sentence. He felt it in his spark but he struggled trying to understand. "I fear being myself the least around you." His own response both surprised and scared him a little. He could feel his battle computer trying to process what that meant. Why was Jazz so different to him than everyone else, including his own brothers?

Meanwhile, Jazz felt himself breathe after he heard Prowl utter those words. Time seemed to slow down for the briefest of moments. Prowl felt the most relaxed with him and him alone? A longing stirred within his own spark at those words and he was suddenly aware how close the two of them were and his hand firmly holding Prowl's arm. "Yeah?" was the only response he could manage. Jazz knew his reply was lame but he couldn't come up with anything intelligent. He didn't even know what he thought of Prowl's response let alone form any real answer.

"… Yes." Prowl knew it was obvious he should feel comfortable with Jazz since they were best friends but he could feel a desire forming to have more than friendship. Prowl's optics lingered on Jazz's face before falling on his lips. Prowl suddenly found himself mesmerized by Jazz's lip components. He could feel his fear and curiosity bubbling. He tried analyzing the feelings but he was at a loss. He didn't understand why things were different for him when he was around Jazz. Sure, it was obvious his best friend should bring him joy but he realized there was something else. Maybe for once in his life he should stop fighting his emotions and give into them.

Prowl tentatively started moving his hand but didn't get far before the warning system for Decepticon activity sounded.

_

* * *

_

_Yay, a real PJ chapter!_

_Several days ago my Jazz muse told me he was feeling too impatient with the original story plan so he's _kindly _suggested a couple changes. Stupid (lovable) Jazz._

_I can't wait to write Ch E and Ch 4. First thing I ever wrote for this story is in Ch E and an awesome thing for Ch 4 came to last week. Will post them together._

_Thanks to Evil Ratchet for beta reading. :)_


	9. Ch E

_Prowl – "15," Smokescreen – "8," Bluestreak – "5"_

_Note Prowl's the equivalent of teen. His age-equivalency really does matter here._

_

* * *

_

"Prowl, can you watch your brothers? Your sparker and I have to go to an impromptu-meeting," Charger shouted from down the hall.

Annoyed, Prowl set down the datapad. "For how long?"

"A couple of joors, three at most."

"Yes, I can do that." He didn't want to. It wasn't because he didn't love his brothers; he just really wanted to finish reading. While chances are Smokescreen would leave him alone after he found something, there was little chance Bluestreak could focus on anything that long.

A few breems later his "sparker" emerged from another room. "We're leaving now. Both your brothers are eating some energon. Would you like some as well?" Flashfire politely inquired. Prowl looked up into his friendly optics.

"No, thank you. I'm perfectly fine fetching my own energon." His voice carried the usual clipped tone whenever he talked to Flashfire. Part of him was annoyed it never seemed to faze Flashfire anymore. Another part of him liked Flashfire but he vehemently opposed that side. Flashfire turned to fetch something from a drawer and Prowl glared into his back, thinking how this mech uprooted his life practically the moment Blacksmoke left.

It took Charger almost three decaorns to be able to care for Prowl again. She was only in the hospital for half a decaorn but the stress of losing her mate and dealing with her unborn sparkling's body proved too hard for her. Prowl at first didn't understand how she was able to cope after having a breakdown; It turned out to be thanks to her coworker Flashfire. He always thought his carrier brushed off their fights because she was unbreakable but it turned out she dealt with it by seeking out Flashfire's company. Not long after his sparker's departure this unusual mech frequently helped his carrier and him, even playing games with Prowl for joors. Having the calm and supportive Flashfire around was what eventually caused the proverbial dam inside Prowl to break.

One night Flashfire stayed late and he found Prowl whimpering in his recharge. When Flashfire managed to wake him up, the complete lack of normalcy and the nightmare caused Prowl to break down. From there on Charger had him in therapy to deal with the attacks and his sparker's departure.

It wasn't until his first upgrade he realized there was something odd about Flashfire frequently taking him home after counseling. After that he noticed Flashfire wasn't going home a lot. Once Prowl saw this mech was replacing his sparker he lashed out. Prowl hated Flashfire – everything Prowl had done to make his family right again for his sparker was unraveling before his optics. Now his sparker would never come back, all because of this stupid mech!

Charger tried getting Prowl to understand but he refused, angry at her for betraying them when he was trying to fix the family. Apparently that wasn't the best way to express his feelings because Charger only extended his therapy. Prowl thought it was stupid but it turned out to be a good measure of foresight on Charger's part. She and Flashfire bonded not too long afterwards and Prowl learned why his family was so far from normal. At the time his creators were still together everyone they knew with a sparkling was bonded, except for them. It turned out Blacksmoke refused to bond with her due to 'the chance her emotions over the bond would cause him to falter in battle and deactivate.'

So not only was home not really home anymore but he finally understood why all the fully-upgraded mechs and femmes started treating him differently when Blacksmoke left. Learning this, Prowl redirected most of his anger at Blacksmoke. But Prowl never got to express his new feelings towards Blacksmoke – whom he no longer called sparker – because they moved to a new district as soon as his creator and Flashfire bonded. They moved primarily due to the huge social taboo their family was. Here, Prowl was to act like Flashfire was his sparker in their new neighborhood. Since Prowl could never talk about his anger issues with Blacksmoke he kept it buried deep inside. Well, the issues he kept buried. The anger had a tendency to escape him.

His anger tended to come out at Flashfire but it was more because he saw Flashfire as a symbol of the façade his life was becoming. It wasn't until his new half-brother was created that he really tried holding back. The loss of his other brother never left Prowl so he vowed to be the brother he once wanted to be. Unfortunately, even by the time his other half-brother was created Prowl still couldn't fully bring himself to be that brother.

"Alright, we're leaving now," Flashfire yelled from the front door. Little Bluestreak near ran to Flashfire and gave him a hug. "If you go outside, try to let the other sparklings get a word in edgewise."

A big grin broke across Bluestreak's face. "Okay! I can do that!"

After the two left, Bluestreak immediately walked over to Prowl with Smokescreen behind him. Bluestreak launched himself onto the couch before giving Prowl his best pleading voice. "Can we play a game? We could play…" and so started Bluestreak's long list of games he loved to play. Prowl could see Smokescreen was also feeling a little anxious. This never ended well for Prowl if he stayed home with his half-brothers.

'_Brothers_,' Prowl corrected himself. He wasn't allowed to call Bluestreak or Smokescreen half-brothers for the same reason he couldn't call Flashfire anything but sparker. Prowl's CPU kept pointing out the errors in calling them brothers and Flashfire "sparker", constantly reminding him of his shattered family.

"How about we just go to the park?" Prowl interrupted both his thoughts and Bluestreak.

/-/

Having finished the chapter in his new datafile, Prowl saved his place and set the file aside so he could check on his brothers. He knew he should keep a closer optic on Bluestreak since he was still adjusting his motor skills and his new friends loved to push them. The twins were surprisingly advanced for being only slightly older than Bluestreak. It amused them greatly to see other sparklings fail miserably to keep up and usually they didn't play with others. However, Bluestreak's determination amused them as well so they let him in.

Prowl saw Smokescreen first, huddled over a pile of energon goodies with other sparklings. They were all watching Bluestreak and the twins swing down the rails connected with a number of short bars. Prowl sighed, wondering if he should tell Charger or Flashfire about Smokescreen's habits. Smokescreen had been smart, if not a little mischievous; he noticed others tended to follow patterns and realized he could get more energon goodies if he challenged other sparklings to games about the outcomes. Just like Smokescreen, Prowl knew playing on the bars would end one of three ways: Bluestreak would lose his concentration and fall, Sideswipe would try something fancy and fail, or Sunstreaker would be distracted and miss the next bar. Usually it was Sideswipe distracting him, but sometimes something from the side grabbed Sunstreaker's attention. It wasn't quite clear why he paid these objects an unusual amount of attention, but Prowl suspected it had something to do with their polished and vibrant appearances.

Just then, Sideswipe lost his grip, teetering on the verge of falling. Prowl saw Smokescreen perk up, a hopeful sparkle in his optic. '_Ah, so that's who Smokescreen put his wager on'_. Prowl turned back and saw Sideswipe recover. His brother's group went back to silently stalking the trio with their optics. Sideswipe still hadn't given up on doing whatever the Pit he was trying to do.

Prowl decided he was not going to stand idly by and let Smokescreen win, thereby encouraging the habit. That meant one of the other two had to fall first. Obviously Prowl wasn't going to sabotage his youngest brother, so that left poor Sunstreaker. Prowl crept along just out of sight until he approached a bright, blue-green orb one of the betting sparklings brought. Carefully, Prowl moved it until he was in range of Sunstreaker, ducking behind a small wall. Now if only Sunstreaker would look to his left.

'_Bingo_'. Prowl rolled the orb past Sunstreaker just as the sparkling was reaching for the next bar. As he predicted, Sunstreaker watched the orb and missed. Sunstreaker fell and landed on his back with a loud crack. Sideswipe immediately jumped down and helped his twin up. Prowl could tell Sunstreaker was upset but otherwise fine so he went back and fetched his reading material.

"Smokescreen! Bluestreak! Time to go!" Prowl signaled, realizing it was getting late.

Smokescreen showed up first. "Can we stop by the energon goodie stand on our way?" Smokescreen gave Prowl his best pouty look.

"Why?" Prowl asked, lifting an optic ridge as he feigned his surprise. "Where are the ones you already had?"

"… Some sparkling stole them."

/-/

The three of them arrived home after Charger and Flashfire. Charger greeted them before taking Smokescreen and Bluestreak to get cleaned up.

"Prowl?" Flashfire called. Prowl followed his voice into the kitchen. There were a few dirty energon containers. "Can you help me with those?" Prowl obligingly started cleaning them.

"How was the park?" Flashfire asked.

"Fine."

"Anything happen?"

Prowl hesitated. On one hand he was trying to get along better with Flashfire, but on the other hand Prowl wasn't a turborat. "Bluestreak played with the twins again." Eventually Smokescreen would slip up around his creators so there was no need to turn his brother in.

"Ah yes, the twins from Kaon. What are their names again…? Sidewipe and Sunstreak?"

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker," Prowl corrected.

"Do they know yet if they're permanently staying in Praxus or are they going back to Kaon?" Prowl understood why Flashfire was concerned for the twins. Rumors were the Decepticons were developing an interest on the city but no Autobot or Neutral knew for sure yet. Most didn't believe it and Prowl suspected whoever was deciding the twins' fates didn't either.

Shaking his head, Prowl answered him. "I've never really spoken with either twin but I haven't heard anything yet. I suspect neither has Bluestreak."

Flashfire chuckled. His youngest sparkling couldn't hold anything in. "Read anything interesting?"

Prowl pondered if he really was becoming that predictable. "Just the usual," he said lightly. He kept it hidden he was still planning becoming an Enforcer. He knew his carrier would be upset and he didn't want to explain his new reason.

"More about Enforcer tactics and training?"

Prowl jerked his head abruptly towards Flashfire. '_How does he know?_' Trying to hide his shock, Prowl denied it. "I'm sorry; I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't have to worry. I'm not telling your carrier."

Somehow that didn't make Prowl feel any more better. Prowl stubbornly refused to elaborate on anything as he stared back at Flashfire.

After a lengthy silence, Flashfire leaned against the counter and tried approaching the subject carefully. "I think it's great you're concentrating on your studies even before you start the academy. Are you planning to focus solely on becoming an Enforcer or are you thinking about trying other fields?"

"I'm not sure yet," Prowl said after some hesitation. "There are a few other fields that appeal to me, but as far as dividing my studies between two fields, I'm not sure."

"I think there are a few disciplines you'd enjoy that could equally benefit from your help. Might try looking into something with strategic planning?" Flashfire suggested.

His suggestion surprised Prowl since he was actually considering some disciplines with that nature, but it was strange hearing someone else say it. It made him slightly uncomfortable listening to Flashfire encourage him over the subject while accepting his decision to train as an Enforcer. Actually, that last part made him very uncomfortable. "Well, I'll keep that in mind."

Flashfire saw Prowl turn to end the conversation but he wasn't done. He was trying to get the young mech to open up because he was concerned about several things, this being one of them. "If you aren't certain about studying other fields, then perhaps you're uncertain about becoming an Enforcer?"

Stopping in mid-step, Prowl whirled around. He didn't like the passive-aggressive jab from Flashfire. "I am _very _positive about becoming an Enforcer." His tone was terse as he fought to tightly control his anger. He knew it was misplaced but Prowl didn't care. He hated it when others thought he was some fragile mech who couldn't handle being an Enforcer.

Flashfire, for his part, could feel Prowl's anger and let it wash over him. As Prowl had gotten older, he started keeping his emotions visibly in check but he could feel Prowl's anger from past experience. He was trying to encourage Prowl as much as he could but that didn't always quell their fights. It never bothered him about what they were fight about, but rather why they were fighting. Unbeknownst to Prowl, Flashfire knew the majority of Prowl's anger with him came from his unresolved issues with his actual sparker. If Prowl misplaced his anger on him instead of keeping it bottled up then it was okay with him. Eventually Prowl would have to deal with his issues but only he could decide when. So Flashfire welcomed Prowl's anger lashing out on him if it kept Prowl from turning it on himself. Some time ago when Prowl did keep it in Flashfire discovered Prowl's anger had taken an unhealthy outlet. He hadn't told Charger.

"I think it's great you've picked a discipline and you're already preparing for it, but I can't help but worry perhaps you've decided a little too soon. Maybe you should try taking the general classes at first when you attend the academy. Try some classes in areas you're interested in or what you aren't nearly as familiar with."

"I _know_ what I'm interested in, so I fail to see why I'd waste time trying out other fields."

"I'm not asking you to waste time. They require you to take some gen classes. I'm just saying you might want to start there and try some things out."

"I'm not interested in 'trying some things out.' Just like I'm not interested in this conversation." With that Prowl turned and left, leaving their home without so much as a goodbye.

/-/

Choosing to walk where he was headed, Prowl tried calming down before he got there. Normally Prowl didn't blow up that fast but there were two exceptions: his creators (or rather his carrier and his fake-sparker) and his future career. He knew he shouldn't behave like that with Flashfire. He really was only trying to help but Prowl didn't want it. He could take care of himself despite what others thought.

Suddenly, someone ran into Prowl, bowling him over. Disorientated, Prowl managed to sit up before looking at the mech who crashed into him. Seeing who it was, Prowl scowled before hiding his irritation. '_Of all the mechs and femmes, Primus _had_ to pick this one to run me over_.'

The mech in question lifted and shook his head before settling his gaze on Prowl, or rather turned his visor at Prowl's face. "Sorry 'bout that. We were just playing a game and I missed the disc my friend threw."

"Yes, well…" what was his name… Jazz? Yes, that was it. "Please remember to keep an optic on where you're running or at least an audio, Jazz."

"Same could be said fer you. Keep an optic out on your surrounds and whatnot." Jazz got up and offered his hand to Prowl. Prowl swiftly rolled up onto his heels, completely ignoring the offer.

"Perhaps wherever you're from they might be fine with others running blindly into the streets, but here in Praxus we prefer a little more common sense." Prowl couldn't remember where this mech was visiting from but he didn't care. He'd been here too long as far as Prowl was concerned since the orn they met. It didn't help that they had a knack for finding each other.

"Funny, all the Praxians I've met don't seem to mind a little fun. Guess you're the only one with a bar up his aft about it."

Prowl growled; this really wasn't helping him calm down. "And when you and your 'fun' get hit by a transformer racing through the streets, please let me know how that's going. If you can still talk, that is."

Jazz waved his hand and fetched the thin disc lying on the ground. "Safety's overrated. I've been hit by lots of things and I don't care. I'd rather enjoy life and get hit a thousand times than be like you."

Jazz's comment burned as Prowl watched him throw the disc back towards his friend before chasing after it. Prowl glared daggers into his retreating back before turning away.

/-/

By the time he reached the apartment door Prowl had managed to only partially calm down. His circuits still burned after having two arguments in less than a joor. Knocking, the door immediately retracted and Prowl stepped in.

Sitting casually at the table and drinking some energon was the mech he'd been seeing. Conex was Prowl's first love interest, although he wasn't Conex's. Prowl didn't mind though; Conex was a great mech and his past relationships failed due to his partners not being able to give Conex what he wanted. Prowl wasn't going to let that happen to them.

"What's up?" Conex lazily greeted him.

"I'm so angry right now. My sparker and I had _another_ fight. Then I ran into that glitch-head Jazz – or rather, he ran into me – while I was coming over here and got into a _second_ argument." Prowl burst out, clenching and unclenching his hands.

"Mmm…" Conex turned his attention back to the screen Prowl hadn't noticed when he came in. "What was the first argument about?"

"About me becoming an Enforcer."

Conex turned his blue optics back to him. "I thought you said you weren't telling them that."

"I wasn't!" Prowl snapped. "I don't know how he found out but needless to say, it didn't go well."

"Uh huh." Once again, Conex turned the majority of his attention towards the screen. "What'd he say?"

"That I should consider other fields of study rather than focus all my attention on becoming an Enforcer. Perhaps something involving strategy." He dropped his weight into a chair by Conex, causing it to creak a little. Prowl winced.

"Who cares? It doesn't matter what they think. Really, Prowl, you're being too emotional about this," Conex admonished. His words stung Prowl and he immediately felt guilty. Prowl knew being emotional was a turn-off for Conex and he tried to reign it in, but he wasn't always successful. "Why don't you grab some energon and sit here with me and watch what's on?"

"Okay." Prowl did just that, keeping his feelings in so he didn't lose the one mech he really cared for.

After the show ended, Conex got up to discard his container. "Anyways, it really doesn't matter what your sparker or even creator thinks. We both know you want to become an Enforcer and not some useless mech on the sidelines."

"Of course," Prowl immediately assured him. He knew Conex didn't like those mechs and femmes just like Blacksmoke didn't.

'So you seriously need to get over it. If you want, you can spend the next several joors over here if you think that glitch's gonna keep pestering you." Prowl considered it. Chances were Flashfire wouldn't so long as Charger wasn't busy in another room. Still, if he said yes then he could spend some time with Conex and he liked that prospect better.

"Probably. I'd like to stay here for while."

"Fine, but I don't want to hear anything more about strategy," Conex playful warned.

Although he laughed, internally Prowl grimaced. He wanted someone to talk to about the fields he was interested in but Conex didn't ever want to hear about. But it was a fair trade in his CPU to stick with becoming exclusively an Enforcer if it meant he got to be with his one love. Conex was the right one for him; he couldn't imagine anyone better. "Not a problem. It's not like I'm into that sort of a thing."

_

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_

_Yeah, I know Prowl's a bit generally stupid but he is suppose to be a teen, so to speak. Believe it or not, I really am going somewhere with this. If you're wondering about the whole family secrecy and social taboo thing, it's based off of US American society in the 1950s. _

_Last thing: There are only 2 more chapters left for the 'past.' This doesn't reflect on when the 'present' chapters will end._


	10. Ch 4

Jazz twisted around and took off for the command center with Prowl right on his heels. All the way up there Jazz was cursing both the Decepticons and Primus. He didn't know who he was angrier at – the Decepticons or himself. Certainly the Decepticons ranked number one for most hated but anger was another issue. They ruined the moment but it wasn't like he was doing too good of a job back there anyways.

With a final burst of speed, the two of them arrived at the command center where Optimus Prime and Blaster were looking atTeletraan-1. "Prime?" Prowl spoke up.

Prime turned to face both of them. "The Decepticons are attacking a remote power plant. The troops are assembling now." As if on cue they heard Sunstreaker snarling how he was going to rip off the Decepticons' head for making him go out in this weather.

"How big is the power plant?" Prowl asked.

Frowning, Prime glanced back to Teletraan-1. "Not that large. Considering the size of their normal targets it might even be thought of as small."

"What about the location? Is there anything around that may be of use to Megatron?"

"Not quite," Prime slowly spoke.

"There isn't anything that could be of use for creating energon or used for military purpose," Blaster jumped in. "However, there are a bunch of broken cliffs around, making the area difficult to maneuver or see around."

"So it's a trap," Jazz stated.

"It appears that way. Blaster is going to stay behind and find anything he can about that area that the Decepticons may use for a trap. Prowl, he'll relay anything he finds to you," Prime said.

Prowl nodded. "Have you found anything yet, Blaster?"

Blaster shook his head. "Pretty much all I can tell you, Prowl, is what I just said. There's _a lotta_ cliffs in that area so the Decepticons could already be hiding something in there. The cliffs are high above the plant so they could be concealing it where most our soldiers can't go, or they're hiding whatever in the crevices where the Aerialbots have no chance of seeing it. I can also tell you the Decepticons are taking the human workers as hostages."

"So it's definitely a trap."

"Truly does appear that way, Jazz." Prime agreed.

"Oh good, because that's exactly how my orn should go," Jazz muttered sarcastically. Prowl shot him a look only few could interpret as surprise and hurt before turning his optics away. Jazz immediately felt guilty hearing it aloud how it might have sounded as to Prowl. He didn't mean to imply that his orn was bad, or that he didn't like what was happening in Prowl's room. Honestly, he was just a bit short-tempered because his orn was interrupted for one slag-tastic thing, so why not another? He wanted to think more about what happened but no, Megatron demanded his attention _now. _Before he could elaborate Prime spoke.

"We have to move as soon as the troops are ready. There's no telling with Megatron's temper when he'll lose his patience and just start killing the humans."

Both Prowl and Jazz agreed and left to join the assembled troops. Neither one looked at each other.

/-/

"I was beginning to wonder if you'd show up, Optimus!" Megatron welcomed them with a blast aimed right at the narrow group of Autobots. Those in front stopped short, transforming and using their momentum to dodge the blast. Since they were all packed in tight it forced the Autobots behind them to do the same until all the Autobots were scattered. Before they could regroup the rest of the Decepticons descended upon them like vultures.

Prowl kept behind a rock while firing at Soundwave. He struggled since the area was covered in loose mud and rain restricted his view but he managed to hit Soundwave. It didn't do him much good, however, since the cassettes were already out and the injury was minor. He tried again but slipped as he fired his last shot. Falling forward, he turned his head in time to see Ravage leaping for him, claws pointed directly to his doorwings. Instead of stopping his muddy descent down the wall Prowl let go and twisted to catch Ravage. As soon as his hands grasped the cat he continued rolling until Ravage was pinned. As Prowl pulled back to punch Ravage his hip was clipped by a shot to his left. The shot knocked Prowl off balance just enough for Ravage to get free enough to bite Prowl's other hand. With a startled cry, Prowl managed to snap his muddy hand backwards so Ravage slipped off and hit a wall.

"Shouldn't have been focus on him when it's _me_ you should worry about!" Rumble yelled from behind him. Turning around Prowl saw Rumble's pile drivers come out and start hitting the ground. Luckily for Prowl, Rumble learned a valuable lesson that orn about trying to break muddy ground. The ground cracked once before all the nearby mud slid downwards, pulling Rumble's peds out from underneath him. He transformed his pile drivers back but remained stuck in the hole he created. Realizing he was open for Prowl's fire, Rumble started frantically firing as Prowl aimed for his helm. One of his frantic shots hit Prowl's shoulder but Prowl managed to return fire. Once Rumble was offline Prowl turned but Ravage was gone. The cassette's shot managed to cause minor damage to his shoulder. Prowl glimpsed at the clashing forces, slightly wincing as he tested his shoulder.

/-/

Like most of his comrades, Jazz wasn't fairing well with the mud. He certainly wasn't fairing the worst like Bumblebee, who was pretty much encased in mud, but that didn't make his situation any better. Drag Strip hit him on his left shoulder trying to knock him down. '_It's like fighting on a slippery balance beam!_' While the ledge the two were on wasn't high, leaning too far to the right meant one of his peds would slip from underneath him, leaving him wide open for Drag Strip. Since Drag Strip kept aiming for his left it was apparent that was exactly what Drag Strip wanted.

As Drag Strip struck again, Jazz ducked and grabbed his opponent's arm, using his momentum to throw him down the embankment and right into a cliff wall. The saboteur's victory was short lived, however, as he turned back towards the battle and saw Prowl take a shot in the shoulder. Jazz leaped down and ran over to Prowl. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Prowl winced as he rotated his shoulder. "It's mostly surface damage. There's hardly any limitation in the joint's range of motion."

Before Jazz could say anything, Ironhide ran up. "Ya alright, Prowl?"

"Yes."

"We've got a couple of problems with the twins. They're practicin' their jet judo again, but it's not goin' so well with the mud. Somehow they got hung up on one of the cliffs and now they're stuck in the mud with several of the Decepticons' givin' them their full attention."

"I see. What's the other problem?"

"There were only two of those stinkin' jets. Starscream's missing."

Prowl frowned. As he formulated plan Jazz received a frantic hail from Bumblebee on the other side of a cliff. "Jazz, help Bumblebee. Ironhide, we'll move towards the twins' direction. I suspect whenever Starscream emerges those two will join him. We can get the two free and I'll keep watch for his inevitable appearance."

Jazz was still concerned about Prowl's shoulder. Prowl's joint's range of motion may not be physically hindered, but that didn't mean his strength wasn't. "Okay. But I'm coming back as soon as I help Bumblebee. It's dangerous facing Starscream alone after he's been scheming – especially if Megatron actually backs him up." Jazz was uncomfortable leaving Prowl in such a potentially dangerous situation, but Bumblebee's hail couldn't be postponed so he had to go. "Seriously Prowler, don't do anything stupid."

Seeing Jazz disappear, Ironhide assisted Prowl made their way towards the twins' location. "I hope we figure out where Screamer's at quick. I hate not knowing where that crazed idiot is hiding."

/-/

Overseeing the battle on top of a hidden cliff stood a very irritated Starscream and Megatron's new toy, ConAir. Starscream thought the mech's name was stupid since he wasn't even a flyer. Perhaps whoever ran the project gave him that name for a purpose but Starscream couldn't see it. Megatron had demanded an explanation for what made ConAir different from normal troops. The mech's answer hadn't been all that interesting, but Starscream suspected he was hiding something.

Whatever he was hiding meant nothing at this particular instance as far as Starscream was concerned. He really wanted to be on the battlefield but Megatron was forcing him to sparkling-sit his new toy until the signal. He was pretty sure it was mostly so Megatron could have one of his power trips over making Starscream's life difficult.

"You better be ready for the battle, because I've got better things to do than give you tips how to fight their little band of Auto-morons," Starscream sneered. Actually, he intended to keep an optic on Toy (as Starscream liked to call him) from afar after they joined the fight. If he saw something exposing Toy on the battlefield than it meant leverage for him. The thought of having leverage on Megatron's new 'fancy' play-thing made Starscream a little giddy. He immediately squashed the feeling, returning his focus to the battle.

"Those two right there? They're twins and they're the closest thing the Autobots have that's similar to you. If you can keep them from jumping on me or my trine mates then you might actually be of some use." Just as he finished the twins jumped for Skywarp but he managed to teleport causing the two to crash into each other and fall. Unfortunately for the two they hit the muddy terrain hard and couldn't pull themselves apart. After a couple breems Ironhide and Prowl crossed his view as they ran to assist the twins. "That piece of rusted junk –" here he indicated Ironhide "– is also yours. But the other one is mine."

"And why's that?" ConAir's low voice rumbled. His entire body suddenly became tense as his gaze landed on Prowl.

"Because he is my Autobot counterpart and I love reminding him who the superior one is," Starscream gloated.

"Well that's too bad because he's mine."

Starscream let out an enraged shriek. "Who do you think you are? He is mine and you will do as I say!" Next thing Starscream knew he was being propelled backwards and his wings landed harshly on a couple of rocks. Bewildered, Starscream looked back at Toy.

"No, he's mine," ConAir stated in a deadpan voice. "You do no not control me and no one is here to stop me from making you an example to show them exactly what I'm capable of." The edge in ConAir's voice made Starscream suddenly feel nervous.

"Fine. There's more amusing Autobots to destroy." Starscream picked himself off the ground, refusing to acknowledge the indignity. "Why do you care? He's just a tactician. I fail to see why he'd be of any particular interest to a frontline warrior."

"Because," ConAir turned his attention back to the tactician before giving a wolfish grin, "I like doorwings."

/-/

Ironhide pulled Sideswipe up off of Sunstreaker and asked if they were okay.

"I'm fine!" snarled Sunstreaker. "Just let me get back at Skywarp so I can_ properly_ thank him for letting me get mud all over my paint job."

"Did you happen to catch either of them saying anything about Starscream?" Prowl smoothly inquired.

"Actually, yeah," Sideswipe swiped some mud off his face and tossed it at his brother. "Should've watched where you were jumping. You don't jump at an angle to me!" Pausing only momentarily, he continued on over Sunstreaker's enraged response. "Thundercracker said something to Skywarp about dropping back to assist Starscream. Dunno what about, tho."

"I imagine they'll show up again real soon," Ironhide muttered. Barely after they re-engaged in battle did the three appear, Starscream heading right into Prowl. He transformed and landed literally right on top of Prowl. They fought for a moment as the other two trine mates kept the other Autobots away from Prowl. Starscream managed to hit Prowl back and Prowl landed kneeling. He looked up as Starscream pointed a nullray at him, smirking. "So long, _pal_."

As Starscream powered up his nullray a green blast caught him in the arm, destroying the end off and forcing the nullray's energy into Starscream's body. Shrieking, he took off towards one of the uninhabited ravines. Prowl followed him but as soon as he could no longer see the battle he stopped, realizing he lost track of Starscream. Frowning, he searched around. Suddenly, he heard a heavy '_whomp_' behind him.

"It's been a while since I've played with doorwings."

Whirling around, Prowl stared at the strange opponent before him. His dark magenta optics glowed dangerously.

"I'd say I'll try and play nice, but I prefer not to."

Before Prowl could react he was charged by the large, grey mech. He was knocked over and his doorwings smashed into the ground. He tried fighting him off but the mech was larger and heavier than him. Not only did that put him at a disadvantage but his left shoulder's strength quickly left him. The large mech capitalized on the weakness and ripped out his commlink. A powerful punch into his head sent the tactician reeling, followed by the Decepticon twisting his fingers enough into one of the seams on his torso so he could rip the armor back enough to expose an energon line. Prowl screamed and a warning flashed in his vision as the line was slashed. It wasn't cut through but the gash allowed the energon to steadily leak. In a desperate attempt Prowl flailed his weapon and managed to strike his opponent in the face. As soon as the end of his acid pellet rifle hit his opponent's face he pulled the trigger.

His unnamed opponent howled and pulled back, giving Prowl enough space to pull himself free. He tried to hide but the energon leak forced him to move slowly. Too slowly. The grey mech shook his head and snapped his neck a little. A dark grin appeared across his face. "Guess you do like it rough. Tell you what – why don't we take it somewhere else where we can play as rough as we want without getting interrupted. I have a feeling someone is coming over here after hearing your delicious scream."

Prowl lifted his rifle and shot his opponent, but his opponent continued on his path despite the injury. The mech snatched Prowl and pushed in him into a cliff wall, with one hand pressing against Prowl's neck. Prowl's optics grew wide as the green vein-like outer circuitry on his opponent suddenly flared and a searing-hot pain flooded his systems. Before he could make a sound he was in stasis lock.

/-/

After helping Bumblebee out of his predicament Jazz returned to the main battle. It had dwindled somewhat, with warriors a like looking wearing. Megatron looked more irritated as he scanned for something he couldn't find. Upon seeing a weary Ironhide Jazz gave him a comm, unable to pass through the fight between them. ::Looks like you mechs can't handle losing a little quality time with the Jazz-man.::

::Quite yappin' and help out!::

::Will do! After all, I do aim to please.:: Jazz chuckled as he took a few shots at his opponents. ::Did Starscream ever make an appearance?::

::Yeah, he tried terminating Prowl.:: At the unexpected news Jazz felt his energon run cold. ::Failed, tho'. Something shot him. It looked like a green energy blast. Dunno whose weaponry shoots a _green_ energy blast.::

::So Prowl's okay?:: Jazz asked anxiously, almost distracted from the battle as he waited the reply.

::Was when I last saw him. ::

::Well when was that?:: Jazz was startled by his own response and the sudden panic.

::Chill out! Geez, can't a mech shoot the Decepticon trying to terminate him without you going all postal? He was chasing after Starscream in that direction about a bream ago.:: Jazz looked to see Ironhide indicating which direction Prowl departed in. Not letting another moment waste, Jazz took off, narrowly avoiding a shot. Normally he shot back but his concern over the missing tactician was more important. Especially since Prowl wasn't responding to his calls on the commlink.

Jazz ran blindly into the crevice where Prowl was last seen. A scream echoed through the ravine and Jazz tried running faster. As he turned it occurred to him he should have been more cautions as his ped slipped in the mud. He poured out around the corner. Jazz glared at the mud as he steadied himself. Before he could pick himself up a loud crack echoed off the cliff walls. Snapping his head up, there was a strange mech in front of him holding an offline Prowl around the neck. An offline Prowl with damaged armor and a steady energon leak.

With a cry Jazz started shooting the unknown Decepticon. The Decepticon swiveled around and defiantly glared at Jazz, still holding Prowl's dangling body. The energy blast from Jazz's photon rifle seemed to have little effect. The grey-green mech lifted his arm and a green vein pulsed before his arm-mounted weapon shot at him. Jazz jumped to the side but he didn't completely clear the blast. His right leg was hit and he spiraled head first into a wall. Disorientated, Jazz blearily gazed back at his retreating opponent, Prowl still in his grasp. Somewhere in the back of Jazz's CPU he dully noticed there wasn't much energon flowing out of the gash in Prowl's torso anymore.

_

* * *

_

_Yeah, so next chapter will have 'light' torture. But what do I mean by that? Well I'm not giving it away other than there will be absolutely no sexual abuse, molestation, or rape. I see it in so many fics now that I wanted to remove any doubt._

_Thanks to Evil Ratchet for beta-reading both chapters and further reminding me of word mistakes in my past chapters (which I corrected). Also, because I didn't think about this option til now, Evil Ratchet drew a pic from this story some time ago. Link is on my profile page._

_Now, the RL news: I have a new temp position that may completely kill all my time with the potential of a 10-12 hr per day, 6 days a week. Or, since I'll be in a city I don't know, this may be my only sanity outlet. So I may or may not update often. I will try!_


	11. Ch F

_WARNING: Mentions of interfacing but nothing too explicit._

_Also, if you didn't catch it earlier, this is the last 'past' chapter with the exception of an epilogue. Yes, this is a long chapter. I mentally flipped a coin to see if which was better: two smaller chapters or one longer one. I decided less chapters was the way to go._

_Again, if the society concepts escape you, its based on USA society in the '40s and '50s._

_Prowl – "15," Smokescreen – "8," Bluestreak – "5"_

* * *

Late into that same orn Prowl was lounging on the berth after having some fun. His lover was a bit rough and more demanding than he liked but he didn't complain – for all he knew that was normal. It's not like Conex ever hurt him but sometimes his doorwing joints were sore for a joor or two.

"Isn't there a disc tournament down in one of the neighboring districts tomorrow?" Prowl asked casually, moving partially into a sitting position so he could see into the washracks.

"Hmm? Yeah – in the late part of the orn. Tickets are hard to get though so I'm just watching it on the screen." Conex called out from inside the washracks. He finished a little bit ago but he was meticulous about being clean and dry.

"Oh." Prowl really wanted to take Conex so he would find a way. "Want to go get some energon down at the corner? I hear they have some new flavors."

"Sure, I guess." Conex emerged and headed out with Prowl following behind. They discussed some of the finer points of being an Enforcer all the way there. Every now and then Prowl would mention something else but Conex pointed the conversation back towards Enforcer ideas. Once they reached the little corner shop they grabbed some energon before taking it back to Conex's place. After they both finished their energon Prowl took a moment to check the time. Immediately he scowled.

"What is it?" Conex asked as he dumped their empty energon containers.

"It's late. I should go home."

"So? Are you always going to do what other 'formers dictate what you _should_ do? Seriously Prowl, you need to take more responsibility in your life and not depend on others so much."

Internally, Prowl recoiled in hurt from the reprimand. Outwardly he tried to stay relaxed. "I don't depend on others."

"Oh please. You are one of the most dependant mechs I know." Conex came back and playfully brushed the back of Prowl's helm. "But I'm sure you'll get better at being your own mech soon," he said fondly.

Feeling his sense of self-worth deflate, Prowl's shoulders slumped just slightly, almost unnoticeably, but it caused his doorwings to droop forward a bit. Catching the change in Prowl's doorwings Conex smacked him lightly on the helm. "Hey now! None of that. I don't like seeing you upset." Pulling Prowl's head up, Conex caught him with a mischievous kiss. "How about we go fix that sad look?"

The expression on Conex's face left no uncertainty for Prowl what he meant by "fix." Although his doorwings were still sore that wouldn't stop him. With a half-smile Prowl asked, "What if I stay sad?"

/-/

Several joors later Prowl finally went home. He knew he was getting in significantly later than he was supposed to. He didn't have a curfew but it was well past the 'acceptable' time frame for coming back.

"Welcome home, Prowl."

Startled, Prowl turned to see Flashfire sitting in one of the chairs. "Flashfire," he greeted back.

"You worried your carrier being out this late. I convinced her to go recharge earlier so she has no idea how late you actually were out, but she plans to talk to you tomorrow."

"Fine."

"The later you get home the more upset she gets, you know. Also would help if you had your communications device on."

"Oh." Prowl's face remained neutral.

"She was even more upset this time since she overheard enough of our conversation earlier to know you were agitated when you left. You can probably imaging how she – we – felt when you weren't back even close to a decent joor."

"Well that's carriers – always worried when they think you may not be safe. I'd say 'that's sparkers' as well, but that doesn't really apply here."

"I'm not here to get you in more trouble, Prowl," Flashfire ignored the jab. "I have no intention of telling her how late you finally did get in. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Flashfire got up and left the room. Prowl stared at him in puzzlement, part of him grateful for Flashfire although he'd never admit it. If anything, the grateful feeling was disconcerting. Part of him still disliked Flashfire but the caring nature of the conversations made it difficult. He knew logically it shouldn't be hard for him to be grateful for someone who obviously cared but his emotions made it hard to clearly assess their relationship.

He didn't pursue that line of thought – whenever he thought about how illogical something was his CPU started to hurt. Things that were illogical or emotional were hard for him to understand and he preferred to stay away from both. But his emotions tended to catch him off guard and he struggled with control when that happened. He detested emotions for the insecurity they brought him. At least he had Conex to rely on as a calming beacon during his struggles. He didn't try to make many friends outside of Conex because mechs added variables – variables in both logic and emotions and he didn't like that kind of vulnerability.

It was difficult for him to be more involved with his family because it brought forth the same sense of insecurity. He didn't know anymore what he was in the family. A brother and an older sparkling, sure, but what were those when you didn't follow the normal path? He saw no changes in his role as a brother despite his logic center telling him so. Half-brother or full brother, the responsibilities were the same. But the older sparkling part? He used to know but things changed and he had no assistance figuring out the role anymore. Time had not helped. His world became grey and his black-and-white logic center struggled comprehending the shades.

However, just because his carrier's choices muddled his understanding of what was around him didn't mean she deserved being scared over him. He hated to think he made her upset, but sometimes emotions would surprise him and he'd say or do things to indicate else wise. He'd apologize tomorrow. Perhaps they could do something together.

/-/

Early the next orn he talked to his carrier and agreed to be more considerate. Charger for her part felt rather disconnected with Prowl and found a small racing event for them to go to. Prowl felt a little chagrined about it considering how much time it'd eat up but he didn't want to make Charger anymore further upset than he already had. So they went out leaving his brothers with his fake-sparker.

After they arrived they made their way through the crowd and into some semi-decent seats. A few moments passed with an awkward silence before Charger tried nonchalantly asking, "How've things been going, Prowl?"

"Fine. Just been reading and studying."

"Ah. What about with your friends?"

"What do you mean?" Prowl asked lightly, not quite sure where she was going with this. He didn't talk much with his creators about his life outside of the family.

"Well, you always take off and disappear for joors so I figured you were going to see friends at least some of the time. I can't imagine you spending all the time alone."

Prowl didn't really know how to respond to that. Truth be told, he didn't actually have friends. Sure, he and Conex spent time with other mechs but they were really Conex's friends. He always had Conex to spend time with and confide at least. "Sometimes I do. I guess… they're… fine."

"Oh."

The awkward silence grew despite the roaring crowd as the racers came out. During the race the two chatted lightly about the race event until they were swept up by it towards the end. By the time the race ended in the middle of the orn the two of them felt more comfortable around each other. In fact, as they waited for the stands to clear Prowl responded more openly to her questions. He had no issues with it since they weren't meant to be intrusive, merely inquisitive.

"So are you seeing anyone, Prowl?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh don't be so uptight about it." Charger laughed when she saw Prowl's doorwings hitch up just the slightest. I'm merely curious because sometimes you have a very happy look on your face when you come back and if you aren't hanging out with friends all the time… Well, that doesn't leave many possibilities in a creator's CPU."

Prowl was caught between being defensive and shocked. Shocked because 1) he didn't realize how far he'd drifted from his family, and 2) his carrier could still read him a fair amount despite the gap. Being easily readable wasn't something he was comfortable with. "Sort of. It's very casual at the moment." He felt guilty being so apart from the family his own carrier didn't know that he found what could be his potential non-bonded life partner. Prowl refused to think of bonding at this point but he had a rather negative outlook on it anyways. Nothing like having your family broken apart because of a lack of bond 'to tie them down,' being treated differently after others discover you were created by an un-bonded couple, and then having your entire life changed for a second time because of a bond. Seeing how others changed or died from a bond didn't help the case either. Anyways, he didn't want to mention it yet so his carrier wouldn't feel left out.

"Have I met him?"

"No." Seeing the look in her optics, Prowl added after a moment of hesitation, "but maybe one of these orns." Charger's face immediately lit up and she enthusiastically told him how she'd love that when he was ready. She continued on about it as they finally left the stands.

/-/

When they arrived home Prowl began making some discrete calls on his communications device about the tickets. He had to move fast since there weren't that many joors left. He broke away from Charger as soon as they entered and went into his room. It took him some effort but he managed to get someone interested. It was going to cost him, however.

"Hi Prowl!" The cheery voice of his youngest brother broke the silence of the room. Prowl looked up and saw little Bluestreak teeter into the room. "Let's play!"

"Not now, Bluestreak."

Bluestreak must have had his spark set on playing with Prowl because the next moment all the joy in his face and body language evaporated. Before he could say anything Prowl got a message asking where they would meet. Prowl realized quite quickly he could kill two turbofoxes with one disc.

"Actually I've been meaning to go to the park. Want to come with?"

Bluestreak beamed and started yelling "hurray!" as he raced down the hall to tell one of his creators. Prowl sent the location and time information before gathering an exuberant Bluestreak. Luckily he only had one brother to watch at the moment. Things should go smoothly for him and this orn would go off without a hitch.

/-/

After reaching the park Prowl's biggest initial focus was finding a way to occupy Bluestreak's time while he hunted down this mech. As luck would have it, the twins and their guardian showed up roughly the same time they did. The twins looked a little confused and upset so Bluestreak immediately begged to play with them. The astrosecond Prowl okayed it Blustreak was gone. Shaking his head, Prowl began his search. It didn't take long for his contact to show up and they made the exchange. Prowl was giving up one of his once-prized sparklinghood coordination toys he'd pestered his creators for so he could play with his little brother. It turned out the toy was made from a rare material. At the time it wasn't rare but the war had damaged one of the main mines so now all types of transformers and factions alike were looking for anything made from it to melt and reshape. While he was going to miss the toy greatly, he really couldn't see the logic in choosing something of the past representing death and loss over something important in the present.

The entire exchange took a few breems longer than he anticipated and by the time everything was finished he could no longer find Bluestreak. '_Great_.'

He looked near all the places the twins usually dragged Bluestreak but he didn't see so much as a fleck of paint of the three. Panic started settling in and Prowl began calling for Bluestreak louder.

"Prowl!"

Prowl twisted just in time to see Bluestreak as he plowed into him full force. Bluestreak's small arms wrapped around him tightly, trembling. "Bluestreak! What's wrong?"

"It – they – not fair! Stupid – " Whatever it was, Bluestreak was so distraught he couldn't even speak coherently.

Prowl coaxed his younger brother to calm down until he could speak a little better. "What happened?"

"Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are going back to Kaon. It's not fair! Everyone knows Praxus is better than Kaon! Why can't they stay here?"

"I don't know, Bluestreak. We don't always get to influence what others do. Best you can do is be there when you can."

"But they aren't here anymore!" Bluestreak cried.

"Where are they now?"

"Gone. Stupid guardian only took them to the park to wait for the transport and it came early. I'm never going to see them again!" he stomped his ped in exclamation.

Patting his brother on his shoulder, Prowl spoke softly. "Yes you will. Life's funny like that. You may not see them for a while but one day you'll meet up again without plan."

"You really think so?"

"I know so," Prowl lied. "Just do what you're interested in and I'm sure one day you'll find your paths intersecting."

The little blue sparkling pondered that idea. "They like action."

"And so do you."

"But not as much," Bluestreak looked troubled. "What if isn't enough – doing what I like? They might end up in entire different fields!" His lip components twitched for an astrosecond before he took a moment to calm down. "I mean, I kinda like adventure so it wouldn't be that difficult to try and do stuff they'd like."

"You don't have to be in the same fields to see each other. And you shouldn't ever pretend to be someone you're not. If you stick to being yourself then things will work out for what's best."

"Really?" his little brother still looked doubtful.

"Well, think of it this way: if you pretend to be someone else by doing things you don't want to, then you'll only find yourself going down the wrong path. The decisions you make won't be your own and therefore may not be what's right for you. All decisions have a consequence and the consequence for pretending is onlining one orn and realizing you don't know who you are anymore. Would you ever be happy if that's how you found them again? What if you changed too much?"

Bluestreak looked thoughtful. Prowl knew what he said was a little over his brother's head but he'd grasp enough of it anyways. After a half breem Bluestreak declared Prowl was right and he would "keep being him" so one orn he would see his friends again. Prowl agreed, refraining from telling him that it was illogical thinking that all it took to make everything right was being one's self. Instead he suggested getting an energon goodie before going home.

/-/

Finally, after dropping off Bluestreak, Prowl was able to leave for Conex's. He arrived a few joors early with the tickets hidden. After stepping inside he found Conex sitting on the couch with an air of agitation around him. "Something wrong?"

"Yeah but it's nothing," his tone betraying his words.

Prowl sat down next to him and placed a comforting hand on Conex's leg. "Come one, you can tell me."

"I said it's nothing." Prowl immediately jerked his hand back at Conex's snarl. Conex turned away from him and neither said anything for the next breem. For once the silence was hard for Prowl with the unexpected rejection still burning. "What's up?" Conex sounded as if he was trying to behave normally but his voice was strained from whatever was bothering him.

"Uh," Prowl was thrown off. He wanted to help but clearly his help wasn't wanted. "Nothing in particular. Just wanted to see the tournament with you."

"You haven't done anything this entire orn except wait to see the tournament with me?" Conex asked incredulously, glancing back momentarily.

"Well, no," Prowl responded back a bit defensively. What was with his midnight-blue colored lover? "I went with Charger to a race and then later took Bluestreak to the park."

"Why?"

'_Why does it matter?_' Prowl was getting worried. Their conversations usually didn't go this way let alone _start_ like this. "Charger wanted to spend time together and so did Bluestreak. Although I took Bluestreak to the park to keep him occupied while I finished something," he added that last part as an afterthought. He figured this was as good of a way to bring up the tickets as any. Maybe it'd get Conex out of his funk.

"You always do things for others, don't you? They say 'jump' and you say 'how high.' Primus Prowl, grow up already and be a mech. Seriously, I've seen sparklings be more mature than you."

Prowl stopped midway in reach for the tickets, shocked from the unexpected blow. It was as if Conex punched him in the stomach and knocked him into a deep, cold hole. Only to pour a burning acid down onto him. "What?" Prowl's entire CPU was frozen as if he was struck dumb.

"You seriously can't grasp that? Primus, can't even think for yourself now?" He snapped as he leaped up while still keeping his back to Prowl. His hand pressed up against his helm as if he was hurting. "Pathetic. Really pathetic." With a short laugh he started pacing in place.

Prowl was completely flabbergasted – no one had ever spoken to him like this, let alone someone he cared for. What was happening? "Conex, what is going on? Why are you talking like this?" He was trying to sort through the confusion to find an explanation but anger was seeping in fast.

"Does it matter? It's still true regardless why I'm saying it." He laughed harshly again. "You aren't even all that upset. Really out doing yourself on how pitiful you are."

"Stop that!" Prowl jumped up and reached out to grab his upset lover. "You can't talk like that to me. I'm not pitiful and you have no right to say such things." His doorwings quivered as he fought to hold back his anger. "Talk to me – I don't understand why you're saying such hurtful things," Prowl tried coaxing him again as he grabbed Conex's arm.

Conex immediately yanked his arm out of Prowl's grasp. "You need me to explain to you 'such hurtful things?' See, now that's just it: you're too soft. I'm calling you some fragged up slag and all you can say back is 'that's hurtful.' You wait until someone says or does something you don't like and then _after_ it happens you just sit there and whine about it!" He sneered at Prowl. "You're so difficult Prowl. You can't even handle your emotions like a fully-upgraded mech. Honestly, I'm surprised I lasted this long being with you."

Indignant, Prowl tried demanding an explanation but Conex cut him off. "I mean really. How many times do you come over here just to talk about your feelings? How many times have I talked about mine? If you think about it – and actually think as opposed to _feel_ – you might notice a distinct difference. Especially when you compare it to your friends – oh, I'm sorry, _my_ friends. Nobody can stand being your friend because you're so difficult. Ever heard my friends complain like you do? No you don't. Fact is I've never heard anyone whine like you."

The accusations pierced right through Prowl. His anger left him as Conex's words sunk in. Half of what Conex said he didn't believe but the other half he couldn't deny it. It was true he had no other friends and neither Conex or his friends talked about their problems. Was he so blind he couldn't see this as potentially problematic? Being unable to deny those cold facts made it hard to ignore the rest. If those few were right then what about the others? Had he been more blind than he realized? He knew he should've been angry – no matter how true some of that was Conex's behavior was uncalled for. But Prowl could only stand there feeling numb. Hearing someone he loved throw his faults back in his face was too shocking and painful. Especially since it was out of the blue during what he thought was going to be a great day.

"Just go." Prowl looked up to see Conex's back again. He wanted to tell Conex he was full of slag and go to the Pit, but that would only prove Conex's point.

Still, part of him wanted to say it if only to make himself feel better. "I don't know what brought on this slag and I wish you would tell me. However, I can't make you tell me but I can tell you this: you have the comprehension skills and CPU power of a glitched sparkling. How _I_ put up with that is the real question. Perhaps one day you'll find the right drone for you." Without anymore to say Prowl calmly left the apartment but as soon as the door shut he fled down the stairs, feeling the turmoil inside rapidly grow.

/-/

After a joor of racing Prowl finally came to a stop by a place he once knew. He felt mentally taxed and confused. After the first three-quarters of the joor his anger drained away and all that was left was his logic circuits trying to comprehend the events. Eventually he stopped when his energy left him and he wanted some place safe to hide. Now he was here and there was nothing for him to focus on except trying to understand where it'd had changed. The prospects his logic circuits were coming back with weren't at all encouraging. Prowl sat still with his shoulders and doorwings slumped over. He didn't care how feeble he probably looked – this particular section of the crystal gardens in the park blocked him from view with the large crystal trees and bushes. A wall sat in front of him with an old street on the other side. No one was glitched enough to climb that wall so he was alone.

Layout aside, he chose to come back to the park because he use to visit it as a sparkling. He loved the crystal park and whenever the other sparklings were mean to him or he needed to get away from the fully-upgraded transformers he came here. Being here now bought him some measure of comfort. Those times may not have always been happy but he considered this his home. He'd been gone so long no one would recognize him anymore. Although he was alright with that right now since he didn't want to be noticed. He didn't want anyone to see and recognize him for the stupid mech he was.

How did he get himself here? He thought he'd done everything right, but apparently somewhere he fell short. If he voiced his thoughts or opinions he was chastised; if he played the part they wanted him to he wasn't good enough. Either way he wasn't happy and they weren't happy. He thought he found his happiness with someone but allegedly he ruined that by verbalizing his feelings too much. He'd been told from an early age to keep his feelings inside – from Blacksmoke's expectations, to his new family's, and to society's demanded pretenses. He was angry with them all – Blacksmoke was a selfish slagger, his creator and fake-creator put their happiness above the well being of their family, and society demanded that everyone followed the rules to keep things 'right.'

Blacksmoke tried hard to mold their family his way and when he failed to get what he wanted, he bailed. Just like that. Part of Prowl wanted nothing more than to become an Enforcer and find Blacksmoke to finally give him what he deserved. In a strange way, becoming an Enforcer would bring him peace because he could finally deal with some of his internal demons. Unlike Blacksmoke, Charger and Flashfire chose to uproot everything instead and forcing everyone to live a lie to get what they want. He lost just about everything so they could live in a virtually stress-free environment. They did it because society was against the idea where a mech or femme could have more than one life mate. No, it didn't matter a war was going on and steadily growing every day. Mechs and femmes were forced to pick sides or risk being cut off from resources and family. Here in Praxus they were determined to stick to their old ways in midst of a changing world to shield themselves from reality. They seemed particularly stuck on singling out those created by a bondless couple. That right there kept Prowl from being able to speak about half his troubles.

His world was filled with so much conflict it almost consumed him and brought forth emotions he struggled to deal with. His logic center tried to sort through them but it failed to grasp the more abstract concepts.

Prowl suddenly exhaled. The thought of being unable to understand the things around him despite the effects they had on him made him more tired. For a few extra moments he sat there with a blank CPU. As absurd as it was, Conex was right; He really was letting his emotions control his life. He couldn't think clearly, couldn't act clearly. When he was by himself he was usually calm and level-headed but when he was with others they tended to cause a more emotional reaction from him, particularly when he tried to do what they asked of him.

'_If you pretend to be someone else by doing things you don't want to, then you'll only find yourself going down the wrong path_.' The memory interrupted his thoughts and he laughed brokenly once he realized how blind he'd been. Here he was, today no less, lecturing his youngest brother about not doing what others say for the sake of what they want and yet he was doing exactly that. '_So did you online and realize you aren't someone you know anymore_?' A little voice asked inside his head. Prowl considered this; did he know who he was anymore? He was soon to be an academy pupil, training for the Autobots as an Enforcer.

'_That's_ what _you are, not_ who,' the disembodied voice spoke. Logically weren't they the same? As he thought about it he came to the conclusion no, they really weren't the same. Who he was wasn't a pupil-to-be but rather a friendless mech who drove others away with his attitude when something bothered him. Had he really become that? His CPU replayed memories of several instances and Prowl realized that he had indeed. The weight of the realization that he'd fallen so far from what he once was busy being a fool was almost crushing. He'd never have anything he wanted if he kept this up. Ironic it was after he lost so much did he finally realize the message he'd been told all his life finally became true – to not express himself and not rely on others for support. He felt like such an idiot. There wasn't a single thing or transformer he knew to make him feel better.

"Ha! Told you I could do it!"

Startled, Prowl looked up to see Jazz standing on the top of the wall, gloating down to whomever was on the other side. Before anything else could be said a loud piercing noise rang through the street and Prowl heard mechs on the other side yell and take off. The noise surprised Jazz and he nearly toppled backwards. Grasping the wall from behind, he turned to untwist himself. That's when Jazz noticed Prowl. '_Great_,' Prowl groaned.

"What are you doin' down there?" Jazz asked inquisitively.

"Nothing. Now leave me be." Prowl adverted his optics not really wanting to look at anyone at the moment. Hopefully the lack of optic-contact would discourage the mech.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," Prowl gritted. He stopped himself and breathed in. His feelings were getting in the way again. "Just please let me be," he said softly.

Jazz stared at the slumped mech. He hesitated.

"Just go."

He could hear something was off in the mech's voice. He didn't like Prowl – he was such a prick who not only didn't do anything fun but _actually_ had a problem with others having fun. But as he looked at Prowl he realized the mech didn't have his usual stiff posture. In fact, he looked rather dejected. He wondered if Prowl had any friends – he looked like he needed one right now. With that he made up his CPU. "Nope," he declared as he bent down to jump off.

Prowl's optics snapped up. "What are you doing? You'll get hurt."

"No I won't," Jazz brushed the concern off. With more skill than Prowl had seen at mechs their age Jazz flipped off and used his surroundings to control his descent until he landed on his peds. "Now, what's _really_ up?"

"I stated I was fine earlier."

"You also wanted to be left alone. Since you aren't being your usual uptight self I can infer you aren't your usual 'fine' self."

He had no response for the impetuous mech who wasn't leaving him be. Instead Prowl looked back at the ground. Jazz was a little concerned by Prowl's lack of a reply. So he didn't know the mech very well but Prowl had always given a response when prompted. There was also a distinct lack of variation in his voice. While that wasn't entirely new, it was almost completely absent for the first time and that was unsettling.

Differences be damned, Jazz hated to see someone suffer, especially alone. He walked over and flopped himself down next to Prowl. When he still didn't get a response he started to nudge him. "Hey! Talk." He repeated until Prowl abruptly straightened his back and turned.

"You really don't care about doing what others ask, do you?"

'_There we go_,' Jazz grinned when he heard the exasperation in the other's voice. "Nope. Now talk or I'll just go back to poking you."

Prowl stared. "Why do you care? We aren't even friends." Prowl couldn't fathom why someone who didn't like him would suddenly care. It was illogical.

Jazz shrugged. "Just do."

"You have to have a reason."

"No I don't."

"Yes, you do. Every action has a reason, even if it's not immediately evident."

"Nope, not me. I don't have a reason and I don't want one."

Pausing, Prowl couldn't come up with an answer that might actually make sense to this crazy mech."You're infuriating."

Jazz grinned but his resolve had been renewed hearing how flat that statement was. "So…?"

"There is nothing to tell." Prowl didn't want to risk letting his emotions get a hold of him.

"Do I have to…?" Jazz jabbed him one time before Prowl pulled away.

"Alright! If you truly want to know, someone I thought was going to be my mate told me I was too difficult."

A snarky comment immediately popped into Jazz's CPU but he pushed it aside. Telling Prowl pricks were always difficult certainly wouldn't make him feel better. "Like how?"

"Apparently I have no self-discipline, or at least too little." '_Because I don't hold back enough._' A piece of him curled up inside of him at the thought.

"Huh? Well that's slag."

Surprised, Prowl looked back. "Excuse me?"

"A pr – mech like you has more self-discipline than most our age. Whoever said that expected too much."

"His standards were hardly any different than anyone else's."

"Oh yeah? How do you figure?"

"His standards were the same everyone else has held me to. I need to be a leader, an example of stability. Except I wasn't being very stable and careful with my emotions like they needed me to be, at least on their terms."

"So?" Jazz was curious what "terms" he was talking about. "Why do you care about other transformer standards? It's easy for them to put standards on others than actually do it themselves. I mean seriously, would you want to have a life mate if they held you to their own standards more so than yours?"

"When does anyone hold others to standards not of their own?"

"I don't. Since I don't know what others can and can't do I don't expect stuff from 'em without talking to 'em first."

"Aren't you going to the academy?"

"Well obviously. I think we actually discussed that once in our many encounters." Jazz was a little annoyed at Prowl's tone.

"We did and its hardly fair then to assume they can't do anything unless specified."

"Okay, if I know they went to the academy then yeah, I expect certain things out of them without question. I mean – hey! Stop trying to distract me!"

"That's fairly difficult since I'm finding it rather effortless." A flicker of amusement passed through Prowl before remembering what the conversation originally been about. He instantly sobered up. "There isn't much to tell at any rate."

"Well start at the beginning," Jazz gently pushed as he laid back. His words made Prowl wonder – where was the beginning? It could be argued his early sparkhood, moving to the new district, or meeting Conex was the beginning. For the sake of the conversation he chose the later.

"Several decaorns ago – over half my life, actually – my family moved to this district. Its been difficult to start over. When things were proving quite difficult I met someone. He was the only one who didn't immediately write me off for my lack of interest in socializing." Prowl remembered that day. He had become rather bitter and ignored everyone. One day while he was studying inside the library Conex sat down next to him. Eventually he asked Prowl about the war material he was reading and they got into some interesting discussions.

"It started off more of a shared-interest friendship but eventually Conex and I saw something more in each other. At least I thought so," Prowl said quietly speaking more to himself. "I thought I saw a possibility to start something whereas he saw a possibility for something to develop worthwhile. I failed to meet his expectations or interest for developing something and he finally couldn't stand it anymore. Guess others consider me a heavy burden."

Jazz listened in silence. It never occurred to him Prowl might be uptight not because he expected more out of others but because he was being held to high by them. Perhaps he didn't snap at others because they failed to act a certain way but because he'd been pushed so far by others anything around him caused stress, including when others behaved in a way he couldn't. "I don't think you're too heavy to bear," he said softly.

Prowl gave him a sideways look. "I hardly think you know."

"Yes, I do," Jazz rebutted. "How many times have we ran into each other?"

"Including the non-literal ones?" He thought about that while Jazz complained how that was _one_ time. "I suppose in the upper fifties."

"Exactly! And most of the time they were each at least three or four breems long! I think fifty-something times for three breems at a time is long enough to know if someone's a chore or not."

"Hmm." Prowl contemplated what Jazz said. "I suppose that's plausible."

"Damn straight its plausible! By the way while we're at it, how the Pit do we keep running into each other? I've only been in Praxus for like six decaorns and yet I've ran into you almost sixty times!"

"I suppose it's my charming nature that keeps pulling you," Prowl said wryly.

Jazz perked up. "Hark? Did I just hear a joke come from you, the mech whose yelled at me countless times to be serious?"

"Most certainly not. Its just a logical conclusion since you keep running blindly into me that you are caught up in my charm." Prowl was secretly enjoying this. It surprised him how much better he was feeling and who was doing it. It'd been a long time since he'd had this kind of banter with anyone.

"Please. I have an entirely better explanation."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

Jazz grinned. "Fate."

Perplexed, Prowl could help but ask for an explanation.

"Because that's too many times to be a coincidence. This right now? I wasn't suppose to be here. One of my friends bailed on me last astrosecond and I ended up running into someone else – no, not literally." Jazz shot Prowl a look when he saw Prowl opening his mouth. "He wanted to see the large crystal gardens in this district but we couldn't figure where the entrance was."

"To the west, where it says 'Garden Entrance.' In fairly large letters."

"Don't interrupt me. Plus that proves my point even further. Fate wanted me to be here."

Prowl pondered this. The idea was too far-fetched. "I don't believe in fate."

Jazz snickered. "Well too bad because I do."

"Then why would this so-called fate care?" Prowl was giving Jazz a rather skeptical look.

"Because fate wanted us to know each other." Jazz gave him a reassuring smile. "And I don't intend to ignore it." Reaching over Jazz squeezed Prowl's hand briefly before jumping up. "Now I'm starving. Since you seem to know so much about this area, where is some good energon?"

For a moment Prowl could only look at Jazz. Did fate really want Prowl to be friends with Jazz? Why would this unforeseen force care about them knowing each other? Prowl still felt a little empty inside, a part of him telling Prowl that no one – not even Jazz – could fix. But it hadn't escaped his notice that he felt better around Jazz. "It's been a while but I do believe I know a place." Prowl pulled himself up and Jazz turned to start moving towards the west. Prowl hung back for a moment, looking at the crystal tree they'd just been under. He realized this moment would be remembered for a long time because he finally saw who he needed to be. He was looking back at a bitter memory. He hoped one orn the memory wouldn't be so bitter.

"Hey, hurry up! I'm hungry!"

"Or what, Jazz? You'll leave me?" Prowl gave him a faint smile.

"Nah, Prowl. Once I'm friends with someone I don't let them go so easily," Jazz returned with a grin. "Which means you're stuck with me because I'll never leave you."

* * *

_I know I told some of you this would be done last Wednesday. I figured it would be since I had a 6ish hour flight the day before. However, I didn't count on this chapter being so craptastic that I'm not sure if it outranked toilet paper. I figured I'd rather be a week "late" then upload something so awful. It wasn't even vaguely pre-beta ready until a day ago – which, BTW Evil Ratchet drew more some more. Link's on my profile. Totally dig the gory drawing. ^_^_

_So yeah, last 'past' chapter with the exception of the epilogue. And gee, what was the deal with Conex? I wonder if we'll get to find out ;) I know you all really don't care though – you want the next 'present' chapter :p_


	12. Ch 5

_Sorry about the long delay. RL has been unbelievably crazy but for some of it I couldn't look at this because one of the persons I based the past part on suddenly died._

_As for the story itself, some of you might be thinking "wtf" during this, so for you I have something at the end ;) I also edited the Story Info for a couple warning changes with advice from Evil Ratchet. _

_On another note, I looked over my posted chapters and I noticed all my "scene change" markers are missing along with the ones that separate author notes. I don't know why but I'll reload all the chapters in hopes that'll fix it._

* * *

Groggy, Jazz onlined his optics only to see a very blurry orange object in front of him. After a few moments the blurry color revealed itself to be one of the _Ark's_ walls. Along with the sunburst-orange colored wall he also saw a medical IV attached to him. Normally the unpleasant sight meant he was laying flat on a berth in medbay, but for some reason he was slouched against the wall. '_Huh?_' He tried moving but his CPU was too sluggish for any real coordination. Another breem passed until Ratchet entered his view with a scanner. "Ratchet?" His voice sounded oddly distant.

The medic looked up. "Still having difficulty processing sensory input?" When Jazz didn't respond, Ratchet took his silence as a 'yes' and guided Jazz to a berth. With a few adjustments to the sedative IV, Ratchet waited until Jazz's optics cleared to explain. "You disappeared during battle to find Prowl, or so Ironhide told us. When Megatron's forces started pulling back Ironhide went looking for you. He found you in shock, staring at a rock wall." Ratchet's gruff voice suddenly softened recalling what else Ironhide discovered. He didn't want to mention it quite yet. 

"After Ironhide managed to rouse you practically out of a coma you went ballistic looking for a Decepticon. Somehow you managed to attack and pin Starscream to the ground. Beat the slagger up pretty damn good too, considering he tried getting away. You were yelling at him to tell you who the new Decepticon was. After seeing the way you handled Starscream most of the Decepticons fled." Normally Ratchet would be launched halfway into one of his tirades right about now on why a mech's stupidity landed them in medbay. However, considering what caused Jazz's berserk attack on the Seeker, Ratchet felt a more tactful approach was necessary. Despite what some may think, he didn't _always_ resort to yelling or hitting his patients.

"Then why…?"

"Why were you sitting in medbay unable to do anything a newly formed sparkling couldn't? Well, the Decepticons retreat didn't calm you down. You were so dead set on following them you even hit Sideswipe when he tried to restrain you. Stupid glitch-faced moron," Ratchet added with a scowl. As if Sideswipe hadn't been damaged enough, he had to jump in to feebly attempt restraining a berserk Jazz. "I had to use some of my more powerful sedatives so we could get you back to the _Ark_."

Jazz groaned and put his hands over his face. He didn't know how but his optics felt "gluey," based on a description a sick Spike once gave him. "Since when do you leave a mech on the floor?"

"Shockingly, the battle injured a number of our troops and a drugged but intact Jazz ranks pretty low on my priority list for who uses a berth first. You only have one now because I saw you trying to move as we finished with Bumblebee. Stay still so I can check your systems and hands."

Surprised, Jazz pulled his hands away and looked at them. Half his armor was missing and the pieces still intact were torn. He could see a few quick-bonding bandages on his hands where energon probably had been leaking. "How the Pit am I _just_ _now_ seeing this?"

"Because I haven't completely stopped the sedatives. There isn't a point until I repair your hands." '_Not to mention it actually gives me a chance to repair them before you get hysterical again_,' Ratchet silently added. If there's one thing war taught him when it came to close comrades, there was a fine line where a mech could be sedated so he could talk somewhat coherently but struggle to really comprehend anything. Yes, Ratchet was becoming a master at manipulating others with drugs. A fact he wasn't comfortable with since it reminded him of Soundwave or Hook. But whereas they did it to make their 'patients' more vulnerable to interrogations, Ratchet did it to relieve them of the painful moments to come. The sedatives were unnecessary for repairing Jazz's hand since his pain receptors could easily be turned off, but they kept Jazz from remembering his close friend's fate in battle. He knew Jazz would be in a world of hurt once that happened. So for the moment Ratchet's comfort level meant less to him than Jazz's so the sedatives stayed. 

/-/

After Ratchet repaired Jazz's hands he removed the sedative IVs. After informing Jazz that Prime would be in shortly for a briefing Ratchet stepped away to check on the others. Now with his mind feeling a bit more alert, Jazz tried recalling what happened. How did his hands get so damaged? '_Oh right, when I attacked Screamer._' He frowned as the memories came back. They were muddled but he focused on them anyways. His fight with Starscream had been more frantic than Ratchet lead on. Why had he lost it like that? Sure, Starscream was possibly the only mech more irritating than Megatron, but he'd never beaten the Decepticon so thoroughly before.

Ratchet said he'd been trying to hunt down a new Decepticon after he went looking for Prowl. What new Decepticon and what happened in his search for Prowl? As soon as he thought about Prowl the memories flooded in, forcing him to relive the horror of seeing Prowl being kidnapped by an unknown mech. Panic set in and Jazz leaped up, pulling off the remaining line attached to him. His peds hit the ground but he stumbled as the sedatives made it clear there was still some left in his systems.

"What the frag, Jazz! Get back on that berth!" Ratchet's order came out more like a snarl but Jazz raised his hand as if to say "don't even try it" when he saw Ratchet making his way over.

"Where's Prowl?"

Before Ratchet could respond, Optimus Prime's voice cut in. "Jazz, what are you doing? You aren't ready to leave medbay yet." Despite being unable to stand firmly on his own peds, Jazz still tried to bolt through the doors. Prime moved into his TIC's path to force him to listen.

"Where's Prowl?" Jazz repeated, this time facing Prime.

"We're searching for him. With what we've found we should have him soon."

"So in other words you don't _really _know where he is but 'A' for effort," Jazz snapped. Prime always gave the more optimistic or at least diplomatic answer. He wanted to tell Prime where he could put his answer. He wasn't going to be subdued by a few charismatic words by their leader with his best friend's life at stake.

"Not yet but we have every system and mech available searching for him. We've narrowed the search quite considerably so it won't be long. Trust me Jazz, we will have him back soon." Prime's reassuring words fell onto deaf audio receptors. They weren't good enough for the saboteur's – only Prowl's were. Jazz moved towards the door.

"Like slag you're leaving!" Ratchet snapped. "You aren't cleared yet." He moved in to grab Jazz but Jazz pushed him off.

"No! I'm not waiting here! I'm fine but Prowl might not be. I'm not waiting around for a group of frontliners and scouts to find a mech captured by an unknown assailant! Half our troops don't even know what's going on in their own heads let alone try piecing clues together to figure out where an unknown enemy would take Prowl." Jazz pushed forward until he stood in front of Prime, whose large frame blocked the door. 

Optimus looked down at a determined and desperate Jazz. He knew Jazz would fight him to get through, size difference be damned. Prime hesitated a moment before stepping aside.

Jazz was just about to shove Prime – a move he knew would probably be futile and end up with him in trouble – when Prime stepped to the side. Jazz darted out without looking back. Once he left the _Ark_ he transformed and raced to where he'd last seen Prowl. Most of the other Autobots were used to everything they needed to know about their enemy being right in front of their optics. As the Head of Special Ops, Jazz had a skill set for exactly the opposite. He might be the only one with the ability to find Prowl. Not only that but he wanted to be the only one to find him. What Prowl's captor had planned for him Jazz didn't know but he knew it wasn't friendly. In all his vorns as a saboteur, Jazz had witness what kind of damage the invisible marks left on a captured mech after being rescued. Because of that Jazz knew the less support a mech had the more irreparable the damage. His best friend needed someone there who he would feel completely safe around and that left precious few for Prowl, especially when one considered how over half the army mocked him only an orn ago. Besides that Jazz didn't want to hear Prowl was alive from some third party, he wanted to see and hear Prowl for himself.

/-/

Prowl could feel his systems slowly engaging as he became more and more aware. His entire body felt sore and stiff and he could swear he could feel every inch of his energon lines. Even his energon pump burned as if it was struck hard. Funny, he didn't recall getting hit in the chest – no, he was hit in the shoulder.

Reminded of the battle, Prowl immediately onlined his optics. His vision instantly populated by waves of Cybertronian text. What happened to his systems? Every system had varying degrees of damage, some of it almost debilitating.

After a full breem Prowl erased all the warnings and messages as he focused instead on taking in his dark surroundings. From the rocky walls and sparse terrain he gathered he was in a remote cave or underground cavern. His arms and legs told him he was restrained.

As he lifted his head a grey and green figure in the shadows came into view. "Painful, isn't it?" The voice was eerily soft.

"What did you do to me?" Prowl gasped painfully. For some reason his vocal unit burned.

"Only what I had to do to get what's mine back." His attacker's tone filled Prowl with just as much dread as the words.

"What do you mean?" the tactician spoke carefully. Whoever this was evidently thought they knew Prowl. Whether or not that was true remained to be seen, but for now it was an unknown and dangerous variable to Prowl. There were only two possible answers: this mech was an enemy or delusional. Either way, the mech had shown Prowl he had no problem hurting him.

The mech moved silently until he was next to Prowl before wrapping one arm around Prowl's waist. A finger rubbed almost seductively on Prowl's hip seam while the other hand softly rubbed Prowl's right doorwing near the joint. "I suppose I can't fault you for not recognizing me… but I can give you a hint." Suddenly the finger in Prowl's hip seam curled, twisting some of the wires painfully. Caught off guard, Prowl cried out before the grip relaxed. Instead of feeling relieved however, Prowl was horrified. Horrified because he couldn't figure who this mech was and from the mech's expression, that wasn't an acceptable answer.

With no name to give him, Prowl's silence only infuriated the mech. Snarling, the mech pushed himself off of Prowl and stood in front of him. "How pitiful – here you are at my mercy and all I ask for is a name. You can't recall a name from your _own_ fraggingpast to save your life! That's really sad." Abruptly he yanked Prowl's lower torso towards him and placed a hand back on that same hip seam. "For all your feely-touchy slag you've been even as a sparkling and the lack of friends you ever had I'd think you could figure it out. You were one of the most emotional mechs I ever knew! Crying because some mech made you upset or whatever pansy-aft emotion you didn't like feeling. You know what Prowl, feel this."

The hand on his hip drove painfully into the seam and clenched a cable before tearing it in half. Prowl cried out as his leg buckled but the restraints held him up. Without his leg supporting that side anymore, his arm and struts were suddenly being stretched painfully from the excess weight. He could feel energon pooling in his hip joint from the internal bleeding.

'_Wait, there's something familiar here_,' Prowl realized after the pain-induced fog began to fade away. He looked the angry mech in the optics. "I do know you," he spoke quietly, "from a long time ago."

The mech's anger evaporated before being replaced by a bitter expression. He shook his head before laughing brokenly. "I suppose there isn't much else to help you remember who I am. Time means nothing to me anymore – but then a lot means nothing to me anymore."

Prowl stared at the suddenly almost despondent mech. '_He's unstable_.' His captor may be more of a "head-case" than even Starscream. Before he could analyze the situation another and more important realization came to him: there were less than a handful of mechs in his past he'd describe as unstable, Megatron and his army non-withstanding. Unstable and accusing him of being too emotional – something no one had done since he started the academy – left only two individuals and only one that would use pain as a hint. "Conex?" The name brought more pain then relief.

"Heh, took you long enough," Conex sounded almost sad but it quickly disappeared when a smirk appeared. "And it's ConAir now."

"What happened to you?" Prowl hardly recognized the mech. He could see the barely-controlled monster behind the mask.

"Seems foreign to you, this me, doesn't it?" He gave a low chuckle. "It shouldn't – well not completely considering it all this started back when we were seeing each other, after all. All those vorns ago, I finally had a chance to fight. I had a chance to help the Autobots without waiting to be 'of age' just to train!" He laughed, reliving the excitement before quieting after a moment to continue on. "We were told to keep silent about it unless we wanted to risk being banned. They just wanted to make a simple modification to increase our effectiveness. I had no problem with that, at least not until the headaches." ConAir tilted his head as he touched his helm. "Next thing I know the changes they make tire me out more and I started lashing out more without reason." 

From the pointed look on ConAir's face Prowl realized there were something else to that. His concentration had wavered in and out while ConAir was talking from the energon pool in his hip. It was still growing, albeit more slowly than initially, and now pressing on the other cables in his hip. Internal bleeding may not be the same for a Cybertronian as it is for a human, but that didn't mean he wasn't in trouble. However, he was in more trouble if he didn't focus back onto the conversation at hand. He replayed back his past memories and stopped when he remembered the last time he saw Conex. "That argument…"

"Exactly. That orn the headache was longer than normal and it was driving me insane." He glared at Prowl and reached out to clench the tactician's shoulder, digging his thumb into the wound. Prowl forced himself not to flinch as best as he could. "_You_ were driving me insane with your incessant whining."

"I don't recall 'whining' – I had been talking to you about spending the orn with Bluestreak and Charger when you became angry."

"Whenever you talked about them you were always whining – how should I know the difference anymore when you were just talking or whining?"

"By listening."

"I was listening! Don't call me a liar!" The thumb in Prowl's wound curled around a jagged piece of armor until he snapped it off and energon trickled out of the new gash. Prowl stiffened but somehow managed not to make a sound. He wasn't going to cry out for fear it might excite Conex. He remembered that trait from long ago from when they were interfacing. The sudden delusions or misperceptions of events were new to him, however. So was the physical violence over a few words. Realizing the additional unknown variables were more likely to get him hurt his battle computer started running simulations of how this might turn if Prowl was not careful.

"What happened after that orn?" Maybe if he kept him talking he would focus more on himself and less on Prowl, thereby decreasing the physical attention he was getting. If Prowl was lucky (all things considered), Conex would be so focused on talking about himself that missing some of what he says when the pain or nausea waves hit him wouldn't be so detrimental. The tear in his hip stopped leaking energon but the feeling of spilled energon pressing up or sliding down his other cables was sickening. Thank Primus, Conex pulled away as Prowl calculated when he resumed telling his story.

"The need for energon grew and so did our anger. A constant starving CPU can only handle so much. Finally they had an answer. They said we just needed to rest and we'll wake up good as new." His harsh laugh echoed off the walls. "We woke up and everything was wrong. Our bodies were no longer ours and our energon lines burned. But the energy! We finally had all the energy we needed!

"To much it turned out. Do you know what it's like to never be able to give your mind a rest?" Prowl said nothing about how he understood thanks to his position within the Autobot army for fear it would pull Conex's attention back onto him. Fortunately, Conex didn't wait for a reply. "Soon it became almost a driving force – we had to keep our energy levels up or our systems would burn from the consumption rate. Recharge was impossible! It wasn't fast enough! Of course this didn't bother the scientists because it was a small price to have the _perfect_ warrior." He sneered.

"What are you talking about?"

"You think these veins are for show?" He removed his arm on Prowl's shoulder and brought it to his face. Unbeknownst to his assailant, Prowl silently breathed a sigh of relief. His plan was working. "It was their answer to a high energon demand with low resources – the ability to steal it from other mech's bodies."

"What?" His battle simulator paused momentarily as he contemplated idea. "How is that even possible?"

"These veins – more like tubes or tentacles – create a connection to the target when in proximity and enter an energon line. They create suction to forcibly remove the target's energon and deposit it into my own. It's really not that hard to find an energon line on a target; our individual designs are not so unique when it comes to placement of a core system," he drawled.

The ability to steal energon from others? It was rather far-fetched but it made sense for what caused Prowl's systems to be so damaged. If the majority of his energon had suddenly been stolen then the lost would damage his pump and the systems unable to properly shut down would be damaged from the lack of fluids running through them. Ironic his current problem was fluids running where they shouldn't. "Then how am I even functioning?"

"I prepared this place when I first arrived and stored excess energon here. I won't go into the details how I got it but let's just say there aren't as many Decepticon scientists when I left Cybertron. At any rate, I had no intentions of staying with those Decepticons. It was just unbelievable luck that I had enough energon here when I saw you." Conex leaned in with a sly look on his face. "Such wonderful luck." His hand caressed a doorwing for a moment.

Prowl ignored the way his plating crawled. This was entering a dangerous territory for him. "So where have you been all this time?"

"Oh, that was the best part of the whole thing!" Conex pulled back and laughed sarcastically. "With our minds unable to rest we started becoming more aggressive. The proverbial trigger was the orn we learned we were not helping the Autobots but being tricked by the Decepticons! All this time we wanted to help make the Autobots reign victorious and it turned out we were helping the Decepticons research developing warriors they desired! Our targets had been Autobot spies or ex-Decepticons! After that we revolted but it turned out those scientists did get one thing right – a fail switch. It wasn't the quickest fail switch considering we managed to kill all but a handful of them before we finally fell into forced stasis lock. Guess they didn't want to kill their lab turborats just yet. What happened after that I don't know, but next thing I know I found myself surrounded by Decepticons."

"And then Megatron decided to set up a battle for your introduction." It wasn't hard for Prowl to connect the final pieces.

"Yes, and that's how I found you," Conex purred as he again brushed the side of Prowl's face.

Prowl ignored the touch as he tried to continue distracting his former lover. "But you left the Decepticons. That's why you prepared this cavern and you did not stay during the battle with Megatron. It's because they are unmoral and cruel. Even through all the pain they've put you through you still sense they are wrong. Perhaps there is still some good left in you." Carefully Prowl watched, hoping there was still enough of Conex and his Autobot loyalty left.

Conex pulled away as he considered the possibility. "Perhaps I do see the evil in the Decepticons, but that wasn't why I planned on leaving. The idea of being someone's 'toy' doesn't go over well with me. Luckily no one paid much attention to what I doing when Megatron wasn't interested in 'his toy,' so my absences went unnoticed. It's interesting, though, when I am around Megatron. He's cruel but he hardly treats those good or evil differently. In fact, the fate of a captured Autobot isn't so much worse than a Decepticon who irritates him. Aside from his ultimate goals, Megatron is not as evil as those around him. No, evil is just his whore for what he really wants: power. It fills his needs to being the most powerful one around in every sense of the word. That's the only reason he'd taken an interest in me was because I would've grant him ultimate power, had the original scientists not failed. I suspect the only reason Megatron is evil is because good requires sharing. In that sense, I see the same evil in me as him. I don't like to share." His expression changed for a moment as he leered at Prowl, playing with Prowl's chevron and pinching it almost painfully for a moment before continuing on. "More than that, they are proud of the way they are and I've lost my desire to change. So where is the difference between me and those Decepticons, eh Prowl? Where is it, this difference between me and those you speak ill of?"

'_Oh no_,' Prowl could feel his core temperature drop as his battle simulator flashed a danger warning.

Conex's look intensified as he pressed on with the new line of though. His grip on Prowl's chevron tightened. "With your morals, does that mean you are so much better than these Decepticons? The Decepticons I see few differences between them and me? Does that mean you think you're better than me?" He snarled and Prowl could see the mech he once knew dissolve, revealing the mech he first meant on the battleground. ConAir let go of Prowl's chevron only to slam his fists against Prowl's doorwings. One hand grabbed Prowl's right doorwing and bent it forward while the other hand applied an uncomfortable amount of pressure on the left wing's joint. "Answer me – are you personally better than me or just all Autobots in general?" The pressure on the left doorwing's joint grew.

"I don't believe anyone is better than another individual. If I did I wouldn't be a part of the Autobot army." It wasn't quite a lie, but what Prowl really thought didn't matter. "I've worked my way through the Autobots ranks to ensure equal treatment for all."

"I don't care about your patriotic actions!" ConAir snapped. "I asked what you thought. Actions and thoughts are not always the same. For instance, I didn't love you then but I pretended to. Mostly because I loved playing with doorwings – still do." He twisted his right hand into the left doorwing's joint some more, causing Prowl to cringe as he felt the joint beginning to buckle. "You remember that, don't you, Prowl? Tell me, has anyone had fun with them since I've been gone or are you just as alone as ever?" He chuckled. "I remember how to have fun… scream for me, Prowl." He twisted his hand the rest of the way.

Prowl cried out, his vocal unit cutting out. ConAir laughed as he moved to shift all his weight painfully onto Prowl's right wing after completely breaking the other joint.

His only warning was the sounds of ground being scuffled followed by several pounding steps before his optical ridge was virtually smashed in. ConAir toppled backwards – pulling Prowl's right doorwing with him. ConAir looked up with his one remaining functional optic at the enraged new black and white Autobot. Whoever this was only became more furious upon hearing Prowl broken and static cry when ConAir pulled the doorwing during his fall.

Jazz heard Prowl pain after he hit the grey mech and he looked to see Prowl's right doorwing torn partially off with energon running down his side. He snapped back around and glared at the mech before him. "You fragging Pit-spawned filth! How dare you attack Prowl!" With a roar Jazz jumped on top of the ConAir.

To say ConAir was startled would be an understatement but he adapted fast and used Jazz's momentum to push the saboteur off of him. However, ConAir's opponent was not to be outdone and twisted around as soon as he landed, launching himself back at his opponent. They struggled in hand-to-hand combat until Jazz was pushed backwards and lost his footing. ConAir grabbed Jazz around the neck and Jazz tried to pry his hands off only to discover his own hands were still weak from earlier. ConAir slammed him into a large rock before he could come up with a second plan. His opponent's grip only tightened as he tried crushing Jazz's neck. Jazz fought back but he found it difficult with his grasp being so much weaker. '_Wonder if that's why Ratchet didn't want me to leave_,' Jazz thought dully.

Dazed, Jazz struggled with his vision until a green glow formed from ConAir's arm. His left hand immediately released ConAir's and he summoned his rarely-used flamethrower from subspace. Just as he released a blast the green vein attacked him in his neck. His flame hit the vein and Jazz's fingertips causing both to burn.

ConAir shrieked and pulled back. The exposed vein burned away and now instead of stealing Jazz's energon, it was bleeding his out. ConAir stood back up and attacked, now desperate to get energon, but the lost was already slowing him down. Unable to maneuver easily, ConAir faltered in his attack and fell but managed to clip Jazz's shoulder enough to knock Jazz down with him. Anxious to replace the energon loss, ConAir grabbed at Jazz to connect on of the remaining veins with the hole in Jazz's bleeding neck. Despite losing energon only slightly faster than Jazz, ConAir's vision was rapidly fading as more warnings appeared. With ConAir's movements slowing down, Jazz capitalized on that to forcibly remove what was left of the burnt vein. ConAir let out a shriek as the energon poured out and started clawing at his chest. Gasping, ConAir's entire frame shuddered several times before becoming completely still.

Scrambling back up, Jazz swayed for a moment before turning his gaze on a weak and 'bloody' Prowl. He moved unsteadily over and cut the restraints holding Prowl. Prowl fell and Jazz caught him but with his injuries he struggled with the weight and the two of them ended sinking to the ground. Jazz looked down at his quivering and damaged friend. He'd never seen Prowl _quiver_ although he'd seen in the last couple of decaorns the other sides of Prowl so rarely expressed. He felt a surge of protectiveness and he tightened his grip on the barely-conscious Prowl as he held him. He rubbed his hands on the portion of Prowl's back away from the doorwings to reassure him that he was safe while Jazz comm'ed the base for medical assistance. All that mattered was getting Prowl the help he needed. He pulled Prowl in tighter.

Prowl was barely aware of what was happening around him once he'd been cut free – perhaps even before that when his doorwings were damaged. Only a small portion of him realized Jazz was there. He could feel the pain easing as the pressure on his arms was finally relieved but now he felt cold. Something wrapped around him and pulled him close. '_Jazz._' Prowl curled into him, feeling a comfort he needed. Indeed, Jazz would be the one to provide it to him, not even an orn later from the time he entertained the notion of trying something. But all he could think of was not the tender moments he and Jazz felt but rather what happened between him and Conex. For so long it'd never mattered to him how few bothered talking to him outside of work but hearing his first lover throw some of the more painful parts of his past back at him cut deeper than he thought possible.

It wasn't like he never cared for some one else – he'd just rarely allowed himself to take time out for it. Indulging in personal fairs took attention away from his job and logically a single personal matter did not supersede the attention the cause needed. No, his attention needed to focus on performing his duties as SIC and as one of Prime's most knowledgeable senior officers. His survival and those around him depended on it.

Still, it was not their appreciation here to save him. It was Jazz. For once he chose to ignore logic and focus on the warmth of Jazz's presence as he pulled and held Jazz closer. But even that did not quell Conex's voice mocking him in his head.

_

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For all of those betting on ConAir being Blacksmoke, I have decided to answer that in a Q and A format for the sheer hell of it.

_Q1) WTF! Why the hell is the main bad guy of the story not Blacksmoke? Blacksmoke had a bigger part than Conex!_

_A1) Because in a darkish love story, what's better: the bad guy being Prowl's sparker or Prowl's ex-lover? Yeah, Conex should have had a better part earlier but I realized to do that it would drag the story on rather then getting to the one part we all ultimately care about: Jazz x Prowl. Damn it for falling behind on my plan to stay one to two chapters ahead of what I post._

_Q2) So does this mean nothing is going to come about for Blacksmoke?_

_A2) Nope. In fact, thanks to the reviews I got, my plans for Blacksmoke have expanded :) I plan to wrap up all my lose ends from the past and there's four or five left, depending how you count it._

_Q3) So about getting to that part we ultimately care about… how much freaking longer?_

_A3) Well gee, the Big Plot Moment ™ is now over and Prowl is Jazz's arms. How much longer do you think is left?_

_Q4) Does Jazz really have a flamethrower?_

_A4) Yup, it is indeed cannon. Marvel comics, 1984, Issue 7._


	13. Ch 6

_Look, a chapter! And here at least half of you probably thought this was a dead story :p I tried to get this posted by Labor Day (Sept 6__th__). Clearly I failed, so my new goal as of last week was to post this before Americans eat their Thanksgiving meals. Yay, now I'm on time!_

_There may or not be a few errors in here since I heavily edited the document after my beta-reader, Evil Ratchet. Since she's got a life I'm not gonna ask her to beta-read it twice :p And if I keep reviewing it then this chapter will never be posted._

_Last thing, mech-factor is the Cybertronian equivalent for human-factor. _

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_

Prowl's optics flickered briefly before stabilizing as the rest of his systems came online. Usually his sensory systems would nearly explode his CPU from the rapid input whenever he first onlined after an attack. Like so many Cybertronians, several of his systems were automatically programmed to resume or engage battle whenever he offlined unexpectedly. As inconvenient as their human allies found it, the security measure was vital for Cybertronians during an energon-thirsty war. However it was an unnecessary for once, he thought as he listened to the faint buzzing from the medical machines. Times like this reminded his cherished solitude was not always the ideal situation.

Few realized the silence the tactician sought as a blessing was also his curse. What most mechs didn't realize was that a tactician's duties required constant analysis of the situation that could be fully utilized at any given instant regardless of circumstance. In order to compensate for that, tacticians had a backup system to rapidly feed them information of the event leading up and surrounding any status changes, such as stasis lock. As soon as Prowl onlined this accursed system immediately kicked in and initialized his battle simulator to recreate and analyze the battle before he lost consciousness.

Offlining his optics, Prowl tried to forcefully stop the program, but his own basic programming couldn't resist the analysis. The program didn't even resist revisiting and analyzing those painful memories of a life so long ago forgotten brought up in battle. Sometimes being equipped to be the best in the field had a steep personal price.

An alert soon appeared in the corner of his optic, rapidly blinking at him. The alert was meant to inform him immediately when a detailed report on the battle was completed and ready to be utilized at his discretion. However, this hadn't just been a battle. He knew it also included details of his life unexpectedly dragged in from the way the battle had turned. He knew it because he knew his battle simulator better than most, thanks to Blacksmoke's wishes he'd be equipped with one early on. He and his battle simulator were more one than most mechs in the field were with their own. Probably because it was technically a piece of equipment and therefore most mechs had it installed towards the end of their upgrades. The impact of him not having his battle simulator since sparkling hood would probably be similar to Sideswipe having jetpack since sparkling hood. Things like "jet judo" wouldn't exist because he would never have relied on his acrobatic skills to get airborne.

For a brief moment Prowl wondered what his life would've been like if he never had the equipment installed so early. Would he have been more like Smokescreen? His brother had no problem wasting time off duty, but Prowl's CPU couldn't fully comprehend the purpose behind such idle thoughts and actions. Instead, his thoughts kept redirecting themselves to the unopened report. He knew the general contents of the report in part due to his close connection to the battle simulator. It contained results on him, Conex/ConAir… Jazz.

Right now those other results seemed irrelevant as a detailed analysis of Jazz with new facts waiting for him. He might finally understand his feelings and whatever feelings Jazz may have in a way he actually understood. Every time he tried using his battle simulator in the past the report only came back riddled with errors. He could never accurately feed the simulator what it needed since he couldn't even fully understand the moment. Now he didn't need to add any input because it had captured breems of relevant and untouched information on Jazz. Finally it could give him the answers he needed without his own questions or ignorant input interrupting the process.

At the same token, however, the information had been recorded and analyzed under his default battle settings, so they could very possibly be devoid of elements Jazz had taught him to value. It would not be able to use certain parameters such as love or affection because those emotions were often too illogical for a battle simulator to comprehend. They would be logical results without a single emotional allowance. Yet manually re-running the analysis and adding the additional parameters would bring him right back to his original problem every time he tried this route. Without adding those elements into the equations the results would be familiar and logical, something he could finally understand, yet it would lack a certain degree of "forgiveness," or mech-factor. That also meant it yielding a higher possibility of being cold and harsh, possibly crushing him by showing him more than he wanted to see.

Should he risk it?

/-/

Considering they had been friends for most of the war, Jazz had become accustom to the usual Medbay wait for Prowl. Back during their early friendship and careers Jazz would sit outside those doors waiting for news on his friend. However, as the vorns passed and he was promoted through the ranks, he could no longer afford certain things. Waiting outside the doors for news on his friend was slowly replaced by post-battle paperwork or emergency assistance. Anxiety used to eat at him, but after a while he learned how to adjust and the anxiety usually subsided.

Unfortunately none of those methods or any of his usual his private vices worked now. Even though he carried on his required post-battle duties in his office, he found himself taking longer than usual. His processor would not shut up for the few orns Prowl had been out! How the Pit did Prowl put up with the constant stream of information and ideas? Even now his processor was still in overdrive mode, trying to do its own analysis of Prowl's body language on those last moments before Prowl passed out. Did Prowl even remember? Typically a mech's systems became unstable when their energon ran dangerously low and they would lose the ability to store memories, which very likely happened to Prowl.

Did he even want Prowl to remember? Up until a few vorns ago Jazz had thought he only considered Prowl a friend. Despite what the general opinion of him was, Jazz did suppress and hold back a lot of emotions. Thanks to his frequently dirty jobs he'd become damn good at it too. However, when he stood in Prowl's room those several precious orns ago before the battle, his suppressed feelings began pushing their way into his thoughts as the object of his secret love was pinned between him and a wall.

Jazz offlined his optics for a moment as the image of Prowl trying not to shift uncomfortably in front of him formed. His engine revved a little at the image. The sight of those beautiful doorwings quivering slightly as he had pushed himself closer… Jazz quickly onlined his optics when his cooling fans softly turned on.

Primus, he hadn't been that revved up for those kinds of reasons in a while. These orns it seemed like only anger could heat his systems like that. Being stationed on a fragile planet with only a ship-full of comrades and plenty of greedy Decepticons tended to do that.

His mood immediately soured as the image of a 'pleasantly' troubled Prowl was replaced by Prowl deeply in trouble. Seeing Prowl tied up with energon leaking out and some jackaft ripping pieces of Prowl's armor off had been almost unbearable. When he first saw that Jazz just about lost his mind. Or maybe he did. The rest of his memories were pretty jumbled. They didn't really clear up until he had Prowl in his arms in dire need of help. He'd frantically hailed the Autobots with his coordinates until he received a response to stay there and wait for help. Partly relieved after hearing the short ETA, he turned his full attention to Prowl trying to figure what he could do with his field emergency medical care kit. Realizing how little of energon was flowing from Prowl's wounds, however, he couldn't come up with much since patching the wounds wouldn't provide any real benefit. The only feasible plan would take too long and Ratchet with his vastly superior equipment would be there by then. So Jazz had done the only thing other he could think of by holding Prowl as tightly as he could until Ratchet arrived.

Orns later, it now seemed like a stupid move on his part. Ever since then Jazz couldn't really stop thinking of Prowl in the way he'd been trying not to. He could still smell the scent of Prowl's standard military polish mixed with something he couldn't readily identify. He remembered it from somewhere long ago and now with his CPU obsessing over those moments for orns it was stuck in his head. With so much of his thoughts focused on Prowl, his CPU finally managed to reach a single conclusion: run to Prowl, hug him, and demand to know where that scent was from.

A sudden hail from Ratchet broke his train of thought as the CMO notified him Prowl was awake. Normally Ratchet didn't bother since the masses would come in droves if he did, but it was one of the few benefits from breaking Ratchet down during his early career. When he finally offered to stay away from Medbay if Ratchet immediately alerted him when his patient could be seen, Ratchet had been all too determined to never fail, least he'd have to suffer and see Jazz's face every other astrosecond.

Taking a deep breath, Jazz set aside his work and began mentally preparing himself. He'd finally have an answer to his question as to whether or not Prowl remembered.

/-/

No t much later from when he first woke up a certain mech with a visor emerged from the Medbay doors and sat down next to him. For the first time in many vorns Prowl adverted his optics. His friend didn't seem to notice, probably due to Prowl adverting his optics just enough he couldn't see Jazz's optics but not enough for it to be easily noticeable to others. Charger taught him the trick back when Blacksmoke still punished him for everything. It gave others the impression he was looking at them while allowing him to mentally distance himself.

While Jazz's lack of awareness of the subtle shift in Prowl's gaze could be explained by vorns of practice from the tactician, the saboteur's own awareness was primarily focused on trying to still sort though his processor. Seeing Prowl's solemn expression and restraint he fumbled a bit for an icebreaker. "Sometimes I swear whatever forced us to keep finding each other never really left. When I used to think back on those times I would think we 'beat it,' so to speak, since we stopped accidentally meeting each other but now I think whatever it was – fate or Primus – actually won because those moments stopped being accidents and now they're part of our every orn."

Prowl's continued silence prompted him to take a more direct approach. Reaching over, Jazz lightly grasped Prowl hand. "You ever think about those times used to be accidents when we would run into each other all the time?" He'd purposely chosen those words. It used to be their old joke about Jazz literally running into Prowl. Especially since he did it again after Prowl first teased him about it.

Despite Jazz's soft touches and friendly words Prowl did not feel the usual need to respond about how Jazz was an absent-minded mech. Instead, he felt nothing. The only coherent thoughts in his head were the results of the analysis report. It had gone further than even he'd thought. Somewhere inside Prowl knew they were partially false results based on what he knew to be missing, but he'd relied on his battle simulator for so long without question that he couldn't really fathom disregarding it now. It felt like doing so would be going against his core personality. Still, even choosing the path most familiar to him seemed so bleak.

"Prowl…" Jazz's hand began to move up his arm.

"Thank you for your assistance earlier. I greatly appreciate your efforts but I should follow Ratchet's order and focus all of my concentration on recovering at this moment." Actually, Prowl didn't care about Ratchet's orders. In reality Prowl just wanted to be alone.

"I highly doubt he meant you can't even talk until you've had whatever amount of rest he deems appropriate," Jazz pointed out.

"With the amount of damage done to my internal systems, anything even lightly taxing can result in more damage than the usual post-battle recovery risks. I must insist that you leave me alone for the duration of my recovery to reduce those chances."

Jazz could feel the words spring up before catching them in his vocalizer. Not only did those words burn from the implication in the injured mech's words, but it was like the old Prowl from long ago had come back. This was the colder version of Prowl; one so many never knew could exist. Mechs always commented how Prowl's voice was flat but they were wrong. Slight as they were, there'd always been some intonation in the tactician's voice. Now there was absolutely nothing in Prowl's voice. Jazz nodded, unable to press on. "Whatever, Prowl." Without another exchange from either of them, Jazz disappeared.

/-/

Even after essentially banishing one of the only mechs he had ever really relied on Prowl hardly felt anything. Some part of him violently rejected the notion of possibly never seeing Jazz outside of work again, but unfortunately for that piece it was in the minority. Prowl knew others would notice the separation and probably wonder what Jazz had done but only he would truly know that Jazz had done nothing wrong. In fact, the report had helped him understand Jazz's body language better so he could apply what he learned from Jazz to finally see what the small touches and lingering really meant. He even briefly scanned his memory banks and started catching what he'd missed. Before he started reading the second half of the report he'd felt more confident than ever over Jazz's feelings and even realized the full extent of his feelings.

Actually, the part about Jazz had his spark pulsing faster than it had in a _very_ long time. Ever since the academy he'd focused more on the logical approach to matters like romance and interfacing. He'd notice a trend of vulnerability for either right off from the beginning. After Conex it didn't seem like a worthwhile risk to him anymore so he didn't allow the opportunity to permit itself again. As he began his second quarter at the academy his view on the subject had begun to change. He started to realize romance and interfacing were two different types of vulnerability. The later wasn't quite a weakness so long as one figured how to guard themselves right. With that idea in mind he learned how to rely on getting what he needed in relationships without much more on his part. Some eventually called him a callous lover but he had been past the point of caring by then. Their words never hurt him because he could only see how illogical they were. Knowing how his "berth-warmers" ended up he never bought them anything.

Jazz however could be smothered in the amount of gifts Prowl had given him over the vorns, or at least if the majority of them hadn't been destroyed during the war or crash. The meaning behind that had been lost on Prowl until now. They had always been thoughtful gifts; from small statues of cultural art around Cybertron to the rare recording of one the greatest musical plays from Iacon before the war had nearly destroyed what made it a city instead of a military base.

As he continued through the report, however, he finally arrived to the second portion dedicated to analyzing his own status and actions. Since tacticians were trained to put the cause first and themselves second the report gave them the results of their own faults and issues in conjuncture to those from his internal repair systems. Typically it only focused on the physical damage and tangible threats. However, with so little physical damage remaining to consider it had done a more in-depth analysis on himself as well. It analyzed his faults when he was with Conex and the trends he either continued to follow or developed since then. He'd started out self-destructive by seeking out relationships where the other mech rarely considered him good enough. Never having been a social mech those destructive relationships were all he ever had.

As he completed his upgrades he'd become distant, not wanting a single relationship more than the physically necessary. Even with those partners he'd purposely let them go after awhile with the little bit of the fake kindness he could bring forth. He'd been alone for so long all he had to fill his time with was studying. In some sense it was his only companion as the few friends he'd developed prior to the academy were separated from him. He became almost obsessed with learning where only his datapads brought him any comfort. About halfway into his academic training when the obsession had grown strong, his berth-partners started demanding more from him. At first he was irritated and as they continually tried to pull his attention away from the datapads the irritation grew until one orn he nearly hit one of them. After that he started noticing the dark thoughts and anger as time wore on. He managed to push himself further away from others. The irony hadn't escaped him; he never wanted to be alone during his early upgrade cycles yet during his training he'd wanted almost nothing more.

Of course that didn't bode well with being an Enforcer since they tended to work in small units more often than not. But the transition from Enforcer to tactician was an entirely different matter and he didn't feel like pursuing the tangent thought. He knew what was down that trail and right now he couldn't contemplate such things.

At any rate, by the time he was preparing to graduate the academy he'd learned how to hold back his anger until he didn't notice it anymore. For a while it seemed completely gone as he lightly socialized with his classmates during their final assignments. When the quarter passed without so much as a hint of a problem, he figured he matured out of whatever it was. In hind sight he supposed that his lack of involvement in anything of real social value was the reason. Regardless, he'd given it no more thought until one orn when his berthmate sprang and attempted to force an event on him that he didn't care much for. After he managed to calm down and saw the aftermath of what he had done he stopped even having casual lovers before he'd found someone just like him. Well, until the mech died at any rate.

Having a steady lover with no real commitments helped him keep his problems at bay until they seemed to disappear again. This time he knew they were still there because every now and then he could feel the anger and hurt. Sideswipe and those Aerialbots mocking him had no idea how lucky they were. He felt the flames for the briefest moment, and like always it left him feeling cold and empty when he pushed it away. In part it was due to his tendency to temporarily shut off the feed from his emotional circuits. Doing so was rather harmful over long-term use and Ratchet would have him committed under even longer medical care if he found out. Prowl learned long ago how the effects of shutting off parts of your core CPU circuitry could cascade on a mech until failure, he just didn't care. He wasn't going to risk a repeat of history so long as he had the option.

His faction depended on him being stable and level-headed so he was. As long as he never confronted his problems he didn't stray. If he kept away from the few triggers he had identified then he and those around him were okay. He never wanted to hurt anyone again so badly even the medic would question their survival chances.

Right now both his CPU and the report was telling him that he was dangerously close to losing that precious stability, especially if he ever risked an old trigger like a long-term berth arrangement. If being in a meaningless relationship could be dangerous, then what about a serious one? A serious relationship like he wanted with Jazz. What would happen if one orn he felt that Jazz was going too far or pushing him too hard? Could he trust himself?

No, not anymore. As his time on Earth grew so had the team's comradely. At first that wasn't a problem, but then their new ideas for fun began increasing insubordination. The change in team dynamics had slowly eaten away part of the stability and familiarity Prowl relied on. Now, instead of a solemn and dutiful team they were a rowdy bunch stuck together through thick or thin. He hadn't noticed the internal toll it was taking for a while, but then his temper seemed just a little shorter with Sideswipe. Before he knew it he could feel his arm rising to hit the youngster. He covered it by faking a grab for the datapad instead of Sideswipe's face.

Knowing all that now he couldn't allow it. He couldn't allow what was starting again to continue growing, especially with Jazz. He couldn't even risk indulging himself in their friendship anymore for fear it would undo his attempts to shut off any emotional feed. As soon as Ratchet left his berthside he'd initiated his secret program.

Now Prowl finally felt as cold and empty as everyone believed him to be but he no longer cared. For all their jests and mockery a handful of orns ago from those he swore to protect, they were finally right.

/-/

Most orns Smokescreen was feeling pretty good by the time he turned in. Certainly not every orn but most. On the ones where his fellow comrades were injured he'd play a few betting games with them, usually without any real stakes involved. Contrary to belief, he was not all about good times and credits. So long as there was no real stakes, the games in Medbay were all about lightening the mood in a rather dismal place. It also gave him time to know a mech – something handy to have at his disposal for diversionary tactics. Need to know what they can handle and how to keep them focused during stressful times. Plus it helped him read them later during a real game. Okay, so what everyone thought of him was pretty accurate. The "mystery" thing just wasn't his style – at least not without some cards in his hand.

There were of course certain individuals no amount of games helped him understand them any better. Those individuals rarely expressed anything more than ease, so he never really paid special attention to them. Perhaps the assumption their ease was from being virtually unflappable is what threw him off the most he saw one of those individuals in the dead joors of the night in the Rec Room. Perhaps it was the solitude coupled with an unexpected stray thought, but Jazz looked miserable. The look barely lasted long enough for Smokescreen to identify it before Jazz turn towards him with only his usual charm and grace showing.

"Hey Smokey, what brings you here at these joors of the night?"

Dropping down next to him, Smokescreen's hands caught his head so it didn't hitting the table. "Calming Bluestreak."

"You actually did it?"

"If by 'it' you mean spike his energon with some sedatives, then yes; I did it."

"You spiked your own upset brother's energon?" Jazz shook his head. "Harsh. I'm not even gonna bother asking _how_ you got a hand on those sedatives. More like _whose_ hand did you win it from?"

Not even bothered by the slightest, Smokescreen just grinned. "Hey, even brotherly love goes only so far. Mine just happens to extend as far as the drawer to help my brother rest during the painful wait over Prowl by using a community item."

"Sedatives aren't a community item."

"They're used _on _the community."

Chuckling, Jazz leaned back. "Well, I guess Blue's just lucky to have a loving brother who's willing to so graciously help him out." Jazz gave him a sideways glance. "I bet the wait was pretty painful for you with him as your main source for company. Kudos for getting this far."

Smokescreen merely grunted back before glancing at the energon dispenser. "I think the worst of it was not being able to retrieve my own energon. A mech gets used to his little brother but not hunger."

The saboteur chucked before getting up with his own nearly forgotten energon. "I hear ya. Take care."

"Thanks." Smokescreen watched Jazz move to leave. By his nature, Jazz was quite capable of being more difficult to read than an invisible Mirage but he knew enough about the mech. "Actually, Jazz," he quickly spoke up before the black and white mech could completely disappear, "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"Sure, what's up?"

"While I may not freak out like Blue, that's still my brother in there, recovering from only Primus knows what."

"Uh, look mech," Jazz began, forcefully keeping his tone nonchalant, "he should still be awake so you can chat him up yourself."

"He's awake? You saw him?" He knew it. Smokescreen didn't have to ask the attending medical personnel or be the injured mech's brother to notice Jazz was one of Prowl's first visitors. Neither did it take a highly trained logistics mech nor empath to realize Jazz's earlier brief lapse in his guard after seeing Prowl were somehow related. "You know as well as I do what my brother can be like after an attack, particularly as a casualty. I'd rather hear it from you."

Jazz reluctantly nodded. He understood what Smokescreen was referring to and didn't want to hold out on the tactician's family. "He's functioning alright I suppose, all things considered – "

"Not here. Mechs having a rough night start showing up around now. Let's go back to my room." Smokescreen grabbed some energon, relishing the vapors alone.

"Sure, I don't see why not." '_Other than I don't want to talk about Prowl._' Try as he might though, Jazz couldn't think of an excuse to get him out of it without revealing that much.

"Cool, let's get going. I once got stopped by the twins and – well, let's just say you wouldn't believe what they consider a rough night."

/-/

'_Why do I have to be a nice mech, damn it? I should just blow Smokey off or at least walked him to the Medbay doors so he could see Prowl himself and then run off before he asks me to join inside. Yeah, I should do that._' Unfortunately, every time Jazz turned to suggest the idea he couldn't. Maybe it was the sight of a similar frame or maybe it was the blasted mech's name catching in his vocalizer, but whatever it was Jazz found himself in Smokescreen's room before he could say anything. '_Damn it_.'

"Finally, energon and some peace." Smokescreen dropped down on his coach and sprawled out, skillfully balancing the cube.

"Coming here to talk about your damaged brother is peaceful?"

Smokescreen gave him a pointed look before moving his optic ridges in such a way akin to a human rolling his eyes. "That's not what I meant and you know it. Don't be an aft. But since you seem to want to start there, how is my 'damaged brother'?"

Jazz shrugged. "Good as physically can be this soon after having pretty severe internal damage. Yeah, the repairs took a while and even more are needed, but Ratchet's miracles won't be wasted any time soon."

"Well that sounds like a reason to celebrate."

"Indeed." Jazz calmly sipped his energon.

Smokescreen glanced at Jazz carefully. This was not "pre-celebration" Jazz. He replayed back the last few moments searching for anything he missed the first time around. "I'm sure he was his usual brush-it-off self."

"Yeah, pretty much."

Smokescreen raised an optic ridge. "'Pretty much?' As in more than usual, or less?"

Grunting, Jazz sat down on the tiny spot on the couch Smokescreen's stretched-out form didn't touch. "He wasn't better than usual, but who would be?"

"Come on Jazz, tell me the whole truth and not some half answers."

Sighing, Jazz contemplated for a moment how much he really wanted to say. "I never lied to you about your brother before and I won't start now. He was definitely worse." He paused as he scanned the room until his optics landed on an old digital photograph of Smokescreen and Prowl. "Why does your brother have to be such a Primus-damn thick-headed aft? What the Pit is he so against that no one can get more than a few lukewarm words from him?"

Jazz jumped up, anger suddenly swelling inside of him faster than he could calm down. "I mean, I know he hates being thought of as an emotionally-dead mech, yet he refuses to allow anyone in so what else can he expect others to think. Even _I'm_ hard-press at times to not agree with them and I'm always defending him! Just before our last battle I was trying to help him with the crap mechs were saying and doing about that incident with Sideswipe and now if the moment was to repeat itself I'm not sure I would be able to disagree with them. Why does your brother have to be such a cold, distant glitch? What could've happened to him to make him think this was the ideal way to be?"

Smokescreen waited a moment for Jazz's sake before answering. "In my experience, it's hardly something you can pinpoint that changes a mech and prevents him from being able to comfortably express himself or being almost incapable of forming friendships."

Jazz looked at the mech, thinking about what Smokescreen said and how he'd lost some of old his friends. "Yeah, okay, true enough. Still, in all the time I've known him, nothing serious has ever happened that could've perpetuated his behavior. And before that? I don't quite know of anything past someone was once unreasonably mean to him. A cruel lover of some sort, I think. But still – a mean lover during a mech's initial upgrade period doesn't warp his basic personality. I mean what, was his sparker also mean to him and he just never got over his sparker-issues?" he spat sarcastically.

"Actually, yeah." Smokescreen snapped at him, becoming more than annoyed at Jazz. "Guess you don't know him very well then if you can't think of anything recent or 'sparker-related issues' that might have further closed him off."

Pausing in mid-pace, Jazz stared at him skeptically. "What the Pit are you talking about? I met Flashfire – there's no way he was mean to Prowl. And what incident are you talking about? Or did you mean someone besides Flashfire? 'Cuz I'm hard press to think of a single time the troops or fellow officers were out of line with him before Earth, and I've never seen him horribly upset outside of battle except for what happened to Praxus."

"Well there's the fault in your presumptions – that if anything would push Prowl away it wouldn't have anything to do with battle. Yeah Flashfire was a good mech, but then he wasn't Prowl's sparker so you're thinking of the wrong mech for Prowl's 'sparker-issues.'"

The moment those words left his mouth, Smokescreen's optics grew wide. '_Crap!_'

Jazz's animated form stilled as he gapped at him. "Hold up – Prowl had a different sparker? I don't believe it. If so then Charger would've been dead or unable to bond with Flashfire."

"Hey, I'm hard-pressed to believe it too. I mean, I do believe it, I just don't know how we have the same carrier but different sparker."

"What, Prowl didn't elaborate? Didn't want to let you in?" It seemed unlikely Prowl would refuse to elaborate about their creators to his own brother, but then early Praxian society pretty much out-casted bondless couples with children. Back when they were creating sparklings and not relying on Vector Sigma, at any rate.

"Actually…" Smokescreen hesitated, adverting his gaze before continuing on. "The conversation hasn't exactly happened. Uh, Prowl doesn't know that I know."

"Eh? Prowl doesn't know what? You can't be seriously saying Prowl doesn't know that you know he has a different sparker."

"Yeah, I am saying that Prowl doesn't know that I know he doesn't share the same sparker as Blue and me." Smokescreen clarified. "I learned about it at something you apparently don't recall being a big deal to Prowl."

He brought his gaze back to the saboteur only to be met with Jazz's uncomfortable blank stare. After a few silent moments, Smokescreen's discomfort finally pushed him to elaborate. "Back before we left Cybertron I kind of met his sparker. It wasn't exactly under pretty circumstances either."

* * *

_The biggest problem I had with this chapter is I only got to write it in 0.5-1.0 hour increments over roughly 4 months. Damn you, RL. When I did that a couple of story-related items sprang up on me. It really doesn't affect the story much, but you may see some tiny discrepancies._

_If you're trying to recall whether or not I previously mentioned Prowl's battle simulator/computer was installed as a sparkling, I can't find it so I think that I accidently deleted in an edit. I remember writing it in one of the past chapters. Damn it for spreading this story out so long I can't completely recall my *own* story. I'm learning so many author things due to this chapter. _

_I really don't mind constructive crit either. Trust me, my beta has no problem calling me on it if she sees something. Normally I respond to everyone's comments, but every now and then I slip up. Sorry to those that I have! I still love the comments; I just forget to find time to respond to them :( I have a couple of other story ideas so feedback would be appreciated._

_Also, if you're like my beta reader and wondering what the hell Prowl did to his ex, don't worry. You'll get your answer, just not in this chapter. Only 3 more chapters to go! Considering the nicer change of pace in RL, there should be a new chapter in December or early January._


	14. Ch 7

I know this chapter is later than what I said it would be, to those of you who commented on the last chapter. There's a reason why the gap happened, but for now let's just launch right into the story!

One thing you need to know is that the majority of this chapter is Smokescreen recapping how he met Blacksmoke, so the recap is entirely from Smokescreen's point of view.

_Eight decaorns prior to the Ark's crash landing on Earth…_

_Smokescreen stood quietly, waiting for his brother to show some form of sorrow as Prowl gazed ahead at the dark, deteting temple. "I suppose this will not be as formal as the other Praxian funerals?" Prowl asked in a rather monotone voice._

'Damn._' Smokescreen muttered off some form of agreement without paying much attention. Normally Smokescreen was not one for funerals even when they were held for his close comrades. Of course he was used to seeing deactivated comrades and friends on the battlefield, but that didn't mean he wanted to gaze at their lifeless optics longer than necessary. Usually when he was looking at someone's optics it was to gauge their hand during games. Looking at the same pair of optics when they no longer held any life behind them always sent shivers down his servos._

_Smokescreen had no personal interest in this funeral but Prowl did, whether he would admit it or not. Ever since being aware of the funeral himself he'd watched for signs of remorse from Prowl, but none ever came. It always bothered him to no end seeing his brother being so reserved but he knew that was just his brother's way. Most called it being 'emotionally-dead' but he knew differently. _

_Still, Smokescreen wanted someone to be there for Prowl. No one really understood his brother so Smokescreen had decided to break his rule and join Prowl. Primus knew Bluestreak wasn't up to it. After seeing their creators' damaged and deactivated forms at the mass Praxian funeral on top of everything else nearly broke Bluestreak. Smokescreen was secretly worried what would happen to his brother if he saw another broken body of someonehe held dear. Unfortunately, these orns it was nearly impossible to shield his brother from almost that since it seemed like their remaining numbers couldn't die out fast enough._

_The funeral they were attending now was a sobering reminder of that. This funeral was to mourn the loss of a Praxian by the designation of Snapshot, Prowl's berthmate. Snapshot's body had finally been found with the others after countless orns of searching through the rubble from a battle they had lost. Smokescreen wasn't any different than most mechs in the sense that he knew very little about Prowl's berthmate. However, he differed from those around him when it came to understanding Prowl. Even though he accepted that part of Prowl he wasn't found of, the others seemed rather keen on expecting Prowl to mourn in some typical way. Despite their wishes, Smokescreen knew not even a shutter would ever be heard in Prowl's voice. Prowl just was not a "typical" mech. Granted, Smokescreen, Bluestreak, and a handful of Prime's other officers had adapted that part of Prowl, but that brought little to accepted the matter. Unfortunately, Smokescreen knew explaining the black and white mech's behavior to the ignorant masses would either be lost on them or anger Prowl._

_Smokescreen was so focused on his thoughts that he barely caught Prowl's response. Something about checking out if there was any seating arrangement like typical Praxian fashion and for him to stay put. '_Whatever_', Smokescreen mentally grumbled. He didn't appreciate being told to stay in one spot._

_A few breems past before Smokescreen felt a presence by his side again. Smokescreen shifted to comment to Prowl about the low turnout only to face a black Praxian mech. From the mech's dingy appearance and slightly hunched posture, Smokescreen could gather that he clearly didn't care about the finer things in life like a regular polish. Smokescreen was about to turn away when he caught the mech staring oddly at Prowl. "Please don't tell me you're the kind to try for picking up the berthmates of the fallen," Smokescreen muttered._

_Apparently the scruffy old mech caught some part of that. "Excuse me?" The mech sounded rather indignant, which only served to amuse Smokescreen. It wasn't his orn and if messing with some old mech what all the fun he'd get this orn then he was going for it._

"_You're staring at the berthmate of the deactivated," Smokescreen gestured towards Prowl, letting the mech know he was caught. "Prowl doesn't play well with others. I hear he bites those who pursue him. I don't think he'd like your dirty flavor."_

"_What kind of messed-up upbringing did you have to say that about your own brother? Personally I'd rinse my audio receptors with acid and delete that file," the mech quickly returned._

"_Funny, with the markings carved into your armor completed with the ragged look, I'd have thought that was your style," Smokscreen said just as quickly, trying hard not to think how he used his brother in one of his old jabs._

"_I suppose being the Prime's second's second whenever he needs someone to distract the enemy makes you an expert on reading mechs. Or could it be Prowl figured no one could be such a distracting nuisance as his little brother?"_

"_More like I'm one of the few who know how to confuse Prime's left-hand mech and can actually accomplish something too, unlike simple soldiers like you, who can only confuse themselves. That jar you rubbed on your armor was ash, not wax, by the way." No longer interested in continuing the conversation, Smokescreen asked point blankly, "Why were you staring at my brother?"_

"_I wasn't expecting him to be here – that's all."_

"_What? Why?" Smokescreen wondered who this mech was that he would not expect the departed's berthmate to attend. Praxian society demanded that Prowl be here and many of the surviving Praxians clung to their traditions for comfort._

"_I never knew he and Snapshot had any sort of relationship. I guess it has been a while since I've seen either of them."_

"_You and Prowl know each other?"_

"_Sort of. I knew Prowl when Prowl hardly knew me."_

"_Riiight. Okay, oh-cryptic-one. In other words it's been a while since you've seen Prowl." With his irritation from their previous word exchange rapidly dying, Smokescreen was losing what little interest he had to begin with._

"_Well, in person. It's hard to miss the Prime's tactician during the video-broadcasted speeches." The strange mech said those last few words in a tone Smokescreen couldn't readily identify. He sounded almost wistful?_

_Still, despite his confusion, Smokescreen's curiosity was peaked. "So you've known Prowl throughout the vorns?"_

"_More or less."_

"_How come I haven't ever seen you then, like when we were sparklings?"_

"_Well, Prowl hasn't known me throughout the vorns."_

'Oh awesome, looks like Prowl's got himself a stalker. A filthy one to boot._' Displeased at the idea Prowl's stalker appearing at a funeral for a still undisclosed reason, Smokescreen didn't hesitate any longer in confronting the mech. "Look, whatever you want with Prowl, pick another orn. They just found the mech's berthmate's body. I'd think even a degenerate like you can back off for a handful of breems for a damn funeral."_

_The mech's optics turned bright with a sudden fury intensely burning behind them. "I'm tired of this. How dare you talk to me like that and show me such disrespect. I suppose it makes sense though since only your carrier could be so infuriating!" the mech snarled before continuing, "I'm not here for Prowl. I wanted to see Juniper."_

"_Excuse me old mech? What makes you think you know my carrier? Who's Juniper? You mean the deactivated's sparker? He's been offline for a long time now." The conversation had lost all its fun as it suddenly turned towards dangerous territory. Charger and Flashfire were never much of a part of the war effort, and neither Prowl's nor his family lineage had been disclosed to any Autobot who didn't need to know. Some of the possible ideas now running through his head of why a mech would make such a comment were unsettling to consider._

"_What? What do you mean? When?" The mech demanded an answer of Smokescreen. The diversionary planner could easily detect the shock and denial from the darkly-colored mech._

_Still, Smokescreen decided to play along and see if the questionable mech would reveal anything, now that his little messed up world would had been shook. "I don't really remember when it happened, but it was one of the last times I was in Praxus to see my creators."_

"_You didn't know him – how would you know he'd deactivated?"_

_Smokescreen glanced sideways at the upset mech. Clearly this mech didn't want the news to be even the slightest bit true. If pushing the unwanted truth of Juniper's death upon his brother's stalker had to be done, then he'd just '_grin'_ and bear it. "I know he's deactivated because a message was delivered to my creator when I was visiting, letting her know Juniper was deactivated."_

"_Why would someone tell Charger?"_

"_Guess they were old friends or something – hey! I don't recall telling you my carrier's name. Who in the Pit are you?" Smokescreen straightened his posture, trying to be as imposing as possible. Throughout their conversation Smokescreen had analyzed him carefully and noted this was more of a 'brute's' kind of mech. He would respond to nothing less than intimidation, and Smokescreen needed answers now. _

"_Sparkling, don't even try it. I was killing Decepticons before your spark was merged with your body."_

"_Yeah, and you must be really good at it since you have the markings of a high ranking officer. Oh wait, that's just dirt. Looks like you're nobody. That's pretty impressive since you'd think someone your age could get a promotion or two."_

_The black mech's face was in Smokescreen's immediately, barely a nanometer away from his face. The mech's posture changed and immediately Smokescreen could see this mech was taller and better built than he first realized. At this close of proximity Smokescreen was able to better identify the armor. The material was one he could identify because it used to be highly coveted until its mine was destroyed in a violent clash. Only the Autobots who had been at the site when the Decepticons attacked had the armor. Even then, only those who had participated in an operation so dark that it's execution was denied still to this orn had a sufficient amount of it. Markings were also present on his armor, indicating that he was part of a nasty division under the Head of Special Ops, Jazz. That explained the armor. In short, this mech had done things in his lifetime that would strike fear even into Soundwave. Whoever this mech, he wasn't some crusty old-timer._

"_You want to say that again, Sparkling?"_

"_Yeah, go interface yourself and stop stalking Prowl." Smokescreen still had his pride. He wasn't going to back down after going this far._

_A black streak whizzed by and hit Smokescreen in the head before he could react. Smokescreen fell, grasping his head. '_Since when do dirty old mechs move that fast?_' Smokescreen looked up and his vision cleared just as a second black fist was coming down on his head._

_Suddenly a white and black blur grabbed the black fist. Smokescreen craned his neck further up to see his brother standing between him and the black mech, Prowl holding the mysterious Autobot's arm. "I should call in the guards to arrest you for assaulting a superior officer. However, I will not defile Snapshot's funeral anymore than you already have. Be gone or I will escort you to the guards."_

_The black mech stared at Prowl as the tactician spoke. The moments stretched until Smokescreen thought he was going to snap from the intensity. The intensity only seemed to grow as the mech struggled to find the words for his decision. Finally the nameless mech stepped back and with a nod he left without a single word._

"_You're seriously going to let that mech go?" Smokescreen grumbled, irritated as his brother pulled him up._

"_You want me to report that you were being beaten at a funeral?"_

"_No, but that mech needs to be arrested!" Smokescreen snapped back._

"_Other than for assaulting you, we don't have anything to arrest him for."_

"_Fine!"_

"_Then it's settled. I was coming over here to tell you the funeral will be starting soon. We need to find our seats."_

_Smokescreen nodded, but the matter was far from over. Whoever the black mech was, he definitely presented being a risk. From the bits and pieces Smokscreen gathered, this all-too-knowing mech must have been stalking Prowl for a long time. No soldier or officer knew their carrier's name unless they attended the academy with one of the brothers. Even when their creators died in the attack on Praxus it was kept secret from the army._

'Still, he didn't know about Prowl and Snapshot. That's usually something stalkers obsess over._' He would have to take this up with Jazz. With the mech's behavior and strange traits, there was a good chance Jazz was already aware of this particular soldier and could shed some light on the matter._

_The funeral was overall quiet else wise. Despite being with Prowl, Snapshot wasn't particularly high ranking, nor did he die heroically. Smokescreen secretly suspected Prowl was only involved with the mech for his lack of involvement in hardly anything, thereby complementing Prowl's private behavior. The funeral was held in a beautiful temple, albeit dated and under kept, on the outskirts of Iacon as part of the Autobot's way of honoring the Praxians and their sacrifices. Although their intentions were kind, Smokescreen found it to be a rather morbid reminder of their dying race. _

_Personally, if the Autobots were dead set on honoring them in death, Smokescreen would have preferred another temple. This temple was built when the original primitive Cybertrians discovered a "magical" material buried in the ground. The founders wanted Primus to bless the material for their protection so they built this temple by the old mine. Although the mine was long since abandoned after the materials were harvested, it still smelled like they were in production. The smell of sulfuric acid mixed with Barium always burned his olfactory senses for joors._

_Besides dreading the awful smell he would soon be greeted by upon exiting the temple, Smokescreen was worried about the possibility of one of the few mechs closer to Snapshot taking Prowl's detached demeanor the wrong way. Since most of those attending were Praxian soldiers clinging to Praxian traditions for comfort, it was unlikely any upset mechs would be understanding._

_As they left the halls and stepped out towards the empty city streets, Smokescreen began to relax when no one approached them. As if on cue, an orange Praxian mech swung out from one of the column along the pathway, blocking Prowl's path. "I'm sorry we didn't get to hear you share some words about our friend," came the Praxian warrior's heated greeting._

_Whatever Prowl had planned to respond with was cut off by thecry of a wall guard and the shrieking sound of one of Iacon's nearby walls being struck by an energy blast. Everyone immediately sprang into action and rushed towards the far wall of the abandoned mine. _

_::Smokescreen! Run an analysis on the Autobots we have available by profession. Give me the results immediately.:: Smokescreen nodded as his brother ran towards one of the temples towers. Smokescreen scanned all the Autobots within view responding to the Decepticon attack while accessing the Autobot servers for their battle information. This wasn't a particularly busy area so they were limited to those at the funeral and the barrier guards. Of the guards he counted 22 drones and 14 remaining guard mechs. The funeral attendants he separated by profession code from the server data he received for each mech. Eighteen warriors, two scientists, and one Ops mech. Smokescreen immediately searched for the scoundrel's physical location and detected the Ops mech off to his left, running to the wall like everyone else. Even though he was part of the masses climbing up the wall to return fire at the Decepticons, the black Autobot stood out to him like a black hole devouring the sun rays of what would've been a nice orn. The server data, now available to him, informed him that the black smudge in the colorful mass was designated as Blacksmoke. '_How cute_,' Smokescreen mentally sneered._

_::Prowl, we have 22 guard drones, 14 guard mechs, 18 warriors, 2 scientists, and 1 Ops mech.::_

_::Affirmative. Take command at the wall while I contact Base.::_

_::How short on mechs are we?:: Smokescreen looked to h is left at the temple tower as he neared the wall and found his brother hiding at the top to better assess the Decepticons. He knew full well their numbers did not match the prepared Decepticons'._

_::Jazz tells me there are times to keep information to myself. I believe this is one of those times.::_

_::You know what? I don't like you when you're trying to be funny.::_

_::Regardless, you need to keep the forces moving and prevent anyone from grouping. They have several gestalts and a large cannon.::_

'Frag!_' As Smokescreen climbed over the top of the wall he could see the closest combiner team. Luckily, the Constructicons hadn't formed Devastator yet, but Smokescreen knew they had a reason to hold off._

_The battle raged for several breems while Prowl fed Smokescreen information for the diversionary tactician to use with their limited numbers. Prowl's vantage point was proving vital since he was able to give them ample alarm before a strike. Despite the Decepticons' preparation and obvious advantages, the Autobots were able to hold the wall. Smokescreen suspected their success was in part due to the lack of energon on their side, judging from their uncoordinated movements._

_::The backups will arrive in approximately 1.2 breems with Optimus Prime.:: Prowl suddenly relayed back to Smokescreen._

_::Affirmative. I still have no sightings of Megatron or any of his lead generals. Do you?::_

_::Negative.::_

_::Then why are they attacking Iacon! And why this spot?::_

_::There is a high probability these mechs are desperate with the lack of energon and materials available that they're hoping the mine still contains something of use.::_

_::Everyone knows the mine is out of production.:: The mine had been nearly depleted before the Autobots were able to prevent all Decepticon-sympathizers from escaping. Surely word had passed on to Megatron._

_::Everyone still within this city. I doubt Megatron planned this attack himself. He is aware of our on supplies shortage and would conclude our resources – such as this one – are dried up. I suspect this attack was generated by one of his lesser, more desperate generals.::_

_::Megatron's generals are stupid.::_

_Jets screamed overhead, alerting Smokescreen to the arrival of Seekers. Looking up, Smokescreen's wary optics were greeted by a red and white Seeker._

_::Starscream's here! I didn't think he was stupid enough for this.:: Smokescreen alerted his brother._

_::He's not. He arrived with the reinforcements. Starscream's land reinforcements will have to cross the narrow pathway at Sector 3Delta-13. Have the guards divert power to the right torrent to strike at them when they're halfway across. The Decpeticons are starting to penetrate the wall 3 clicks away from the left torrent. Find the Ops mech and have him plant a small nitro-bomb. Assess whether he will be quick enough to move the old mining equipment to prevent further penetration through our walls after the blast is triggered. If not, then divert one of the warrior speedsters to move the equipment.::_

_::Affirmative.:: Smokescreen couldn't quite keep the grudge out of his voice to his brother. Quickly, he opened a new hail to the Ops mech. ::Blacksmoke! Run interference alone the wall at the weakened area by the left turret. Plant a small nitro-bomb for the Decepticon's to hit on their next attack, and use the nearby abandoned mining equipment to block any follow up attacks.::_

_::But the wall at - ::_

_::Just do it or I'll have you arrested after this battle! You're still on my slag list!::_

_Although Blacksmoke had a problem showing Smokescreen any respect earlier, the mech clearly understood the importance of staying professional when it mattered. Blacksmoke quickly began his descent down the wall to stop the attack at the weakened wall's base. Although Smokescreen wouldn't admit it to the difficult mech, he understood Blacksmoke's reluctance. A portion of the wall to his right was suffering more surface damages than the other areas and held a higher risk of the wall crumbling beneath their feet._

_While diverting another warrior to Blacksmoke's former position, Smokescreen watched Blacksmoke move to plant one of his typical Ops explosives. The bomb in particular would critically wound any striking Decepticon with minimal damage to the wall._

_Out of the other corner of his optic Smokescreen saw the Constructicons, now formed together as Devastator, strike the right turret. Besides containing the Autobot's own energy cannons, the turrets also housed the force field generators. With Devestator using all of his strength as he struck the right torrent, where the Autobots had diverted most of the power, the generator's power supply was disrupted._

"_Ha! You stupid Autobots can't even keep a couple of generator running!" Starscream cried out from above as he passed through the disrupted field and flew towards the temple. "Say goodbye, Prowl!"_

_Two missiles were launched from Starscream and both tore through the air until they struck the tower Prowl was hiding on. Immediately the tower began to crumble without giving Prowl any chance to escape._

_Smokescreen yelped at the terrifying sight and jumped on the nearest ladder, climbing down as he hailed to an experienced warrior to continue driving their forces. As he ran he could see the backup Autobot forces arrive._

_::To the wall!:: he commanded them. Although his brother was falling from a serious height Smokescreen still had a job to do. As he rushed to aid his brother he saw Blacksmoke shoot out from the wall and ran to the falling tower faster than Smokescreen. '_Damn, that really is one fast old mech._'_

_Despite either mech's attempt to save Prowl from the fall they failed. Still, Prowl wouldn't be the Autobot's head tactician if he couldn't improvise. Unfortunately, even with Prowl's tricks, Smokescreen saw his brother smash into one of the larger pieces shoulder-first._

"_Ha, you stupid fool! Looks like your right arm won't be of any use!" Starscream gloated as his jets screeched as he transformed to land in front of the barely-online Prowl. Starscream pulled Prowl up by his neck and placed his nullray next to Prowl's face. "Good bye, my inferior."_

"_Good bye, _my_ inferior." The same black fist that struck Smokescreen earlier slammed into Starscream's face. Starscream immediately dropped Prowl and the injured tactician's head cracked on the broken slabs, rendering him completely unconscious. Blacksmoke pushed Starscream back and they fell backward as they fought. "How dare you interfere with my victory," screeched the indignant Starscream._

"_Who says it's your victory, Starscream?" Skywarp called out as he appeared above Prowl. _

"_Well, it's not yours!" Smokescreen yelled as he leaped from a jagged piece and tackled the surprised Skywarp in mid-air. '_Wait until Sideswipe hears this,_' Smokescreen couldn't help but think as he pulled off his own jet-judo. _

_Unfortunately, Smokescreen's jet-judo attack hit Skywarp too low and neither could control their rapid descent. Starscream saw the pair as they fell towards him and twisted his opponent around so Blacksmoke was blindly hit by the red mass crashing into him. To his merit, Blacksmoke didn't cry out when he was unexpectedly knocked down. Smokescreen didn't either, but he was too stunned from taking the brunt of the impact after Skywarp teleported in the nick of time._

"_Now, as I was saying… goodbye my inferior," Starscream said as he pulled himself up and aimed at Prowl's limp body._

"_Nuuuh!" Smokescreen cried as he slowly tried standing up despite the jumped input his CPU was receiving from the fall._

_Starscream's null ray began to power up just as Blacksmoke swiftly moved in front of the gun to block the Starscream could react to Blacksmoke's move, the arm-mounted gun fired and struck the coveted armor over the Ops mech's spark chamber. The short distance between the armor and the gun caused the blast to backfire and rip through the Seeker's arm before the red jet could get away. Starscream cried out in pain as he fell backwards towards the re-appearing purple Seeker. Skywarp caught Starscream and aimed at the fallen black Autobot._

"_I wouldn't do that if I were you, Skywarp!" Smokescreen called out, his CPU finally clear. "In case you hadn't noticed, there's 20 Autobots aiming at your head right now! "Smokescreen gestured to the Autobot backups who'd broken away from the wall to protect their Chief's Second-in-Command._

_Immediately the two Seekers disappeared and Smokescreen stumbled to his still-offline brother's side. After the single responding medic assessed that Prowl's injuries were not life-threatening, the red Autobot moved towards the fallen Ops mech and found him coughing up energon. The armor used to stop Starscream's attack was not as legendary as told, based on the energon now pouring from the destroyed armor. Smokescreen couldn't help but gap at the size of the wound. There was no mistaking the severity of the damage – there would be no coming back from this kind of wound for Blacksmoke. The medic could see it just as well as him. There wouldn't even be enough time or energon flow for the medic's drugs to ease his suffering. The medic muttered quietly about needing to attend Prowl's wounds before they did become serious. Smokescreen nodded his dismissal before returning his gaze back to Blacksmoke._

"_Despite the rumors, the armor has realist limits. No transformer armor can stand up to the full force of an energy blast at point black," came the surprisingly dry response from Blacksmoke._

"_Then why'd you do it?"_

"_What else can a mech do for his fallen superior with so little of time to act?"_

"_Not that I really know you, but given that earlier you did punch a superior, you don't seem like the kind that'd throw down his life for one…"_

"_Yes, I suppose it would seem like that." Blacksmoke coughed as his intake valves choked on energon, trying to expel the excess energon through his mouth, "I guess part of it would be the ill luck of being just the right the height for his gun to hit just the right spot, but – " Blacksmoke suddenly coughed again and his optics flickered, a telling sign that the energon loss was beginning to serious affect his CPU. Still, he tried to continue on, even though he sounded somewhat dazed. ".. but I still would've done anyways. He's not just my superior."_

'Oh good Primus, he's either delusional and about to spout the dying patriotic wishes of an Autobot, or admit his creepy feelings towards Prowl._' "Oh?" Smokescreen asked anyways, figuring he'd humor the dying mech. The medic attending to his brother had pulled the unconscious mech away towards flatter ground, leaving the two of them alone. With Prime here, Smokescreen was no longer urgently needed. Besides that, this was his brother's savior and Smokescreen would honor the mech, even if he was a tad scary._

"_I always regretted cutting my time short with him after I finally did get to see him again. It's funny – you don't realize what you've missed and why it matters it's just outside of your grasp."_

'Huh?_' Smokescreen's mind was clouded by confusion at the odd choice of words. _

"_And yet if I had stayed then he never would've had the success he's had now." Blacksmoke's once fiery optics dimmed, his systems no longer capable of providing the full amount of power to his basic systems. "Tell me," the dying mech asked, his dim optics focused completely on Smokescreen, "is he happy? Does he enjoy being a tactician? Especially the Prime's tactician?"_

"_What? Well in all the time I've known him…" Smokescreen hesitated as he looked into the dying mech's optics, trying to find an answer. "He's had his ups and downs, but he's happier now than he was before the Academy."_

"_Good, that's something at least." Blacksmoke's already-dimmed optics flickered as he turned his head towards the unconscious Prowl. It seemed as if sheer willpower was the only thing keeping him alive. Perhaps the mech was too stubborn to die so quickly or maybe it was his son finally being within his grasp, only to have lost his opportunity to ever speak to him again. Maybe that was why Blacksmoke was telling Smokescreen. "At least I didn't fail him with what I've done. I didn't fail him."_

_The nearly offline mech tried to reach out toward Prowl but the movement only served to pull at his damaged cables and more energon spilled. Blacksmoke's optics abruptly completely powered off. Unable to see anymore, Blacksmoke groaned and dropped his head. The stunned Smokescreen managed to come out of his stupor in time to catch the dying mech's mead before hitting the rubble. Unable to find a place without sharp objects jutting up from the ground, Smokescreen rested Blacksmoke's head on his leg._

_The motionless mech began to mumble and Smokescreen had to strain his audio receptors to hear the ragged and static-filled voice. "I didn't fail my son…" The dying mech kept repeating the words as if they comforted him in death until Smokescreen could no longer detect Blacksmoke's energy signature. Suddenly everything seemed so silent to Smokescreen, save for the battle in the far distance and Blacksmoke's last words echoing in his audio receptors: "I didn't fail my son…"_

/-/

Smokescreen looked up from where his optics had drifted off as he retold the story and found Jazz staring at him, slack jawed.

"What the frag is that kind of shit?"

"It's apparently true – the part about his son, it was true," Smokescreen belatedly clarified. "I went digging through all of our creator's stuff we still had and Prowl's stuff while he was recovering and pieced it together that orn."

The Third-in-Command raised an optic ridge. "You went through Prowl's stuff?"

"Hey! I didn't want to burden him if it wasn't true. It was for my brother's own good."

"But you haven't told him," Jazz pointed out. "It's not for someone else's good if you don't tell them once you know the truth."

"I know," Smokescreen groaned as he grabbed his head. "Believe me, I know. I didn't want to tell him right after he woke up, but then it seemed like the next thing I knew we were boarding the Ark. With so much work on his plate that comes from landing on an alien planet, with Megatron no less, I didn't want to overload him on bad news. When do you tell your brother you know the family secret and by the way, his sparker died practically right on top of him? Jeez, I don't want two messed up brothers."

"Mech, your family is kind of messed up anyways. That's not an excuse."

"Shuddap," Smokescreen joked as he lightly punched Jazz. "So tell me, did you know the mech?"

Jazz instantly sobered up. "Cybertron is a small planet when you consider how much of it is no longer usable anymore and that its civilization is divided up into three very separate groups," Jazz said quietly.

"So you did know of him."

"Yes."

"Did you ever talk to him?"

"No," Jazz lied.

"So then you probably don't know much about him," Smokescreen said disappointed.

"Why don't you try looking for his records or ask those he reported to?" Jazz suggested.

"I tried, believe it or not. Strangely, I can't find any of his files in the archives or databases," Smokescreen said, his optics pointed at Jazz. "Know anything about that?"

"Since when did I strike you as an archive tech?"

"So you don't know why all the files are missing?" Smokescreen frowned when Jazz shook his head. "Damn. Even though he really slagged me off when we met, I was actually looking forward to seeing what his career was like. I never dealt much with Ops mechs before Earth, but I recognized a few of the marking on his armor. The guy was involved in some very dark operations. I wonder if Prowl ever planned any of the missions Blacksmoke was on."

"Nah, I doubt it." Although lying came effortlessly to Jazz, he was not fond of doing so. "So what are you going to do now?"

Smokescreen sighed and looked at some of the images of his family that remained after the crash. "I spend so much time talking to mechs about their problems when they already know what their problems already are. But telling them that it's quite possibly worse than they realize? I'm not sure what to do. It's my own brother for Primus' sake – how am I supposed to do that to him?"

"Don't," Jazz assured him after a moment of silence. "I've gotten used to giving mechs unexpected bad news. Comes with the territory, after all. Let me figure it out."

"Seriously?" The distressed look on Smokescreen's face immediately evaporated and he was relieved. "Good, because it sucked giving Blue the news about our deactivated creators, even with Prowl there. It's not an experience I'd like to repeat twice."

"Of course. You've got enough burdens right now. Let me deal with Prowl."

"Thanks, Jazz. Maybe sometime I'll help you with your odds in a bet or two."

Jazz laughed, almost effortlessly hiding his unease from all his vorns of practice. Honestly he wasn't doing it for Smokescreen. Between what he did know about Blacksmoke and with what he'd seen in the cave and in medbay, Jazz was worried about his friend. Even though his friend had hurt him, Jazz wasn't one to easily be pushed away. He knew his friend was in a lot of pain and if the rumors he heard were true during his early decaorns at the Academy, Prowl's breaking point wouldn't end well for anyone.

If you hadn't noticed it earlier, I underlined "met" in the opening A/N because it's not the final piece of Blacksmoke (assuming didn't remove the underline). There's more to Blacksmoke to be revealed than what's here, it's just that poor Smokescreen doesn't get to know :p So if you're wondering what's the deal with Blacksmoke, why Jazz wasn't around during most of Prowl's time in the academy, and what both Jazz and Prowl are hiding, fear not – you shall soon have your answer! Erm, I hope.

I was planning to finish this up and post it the first week in January, but I walked into work the first Monday of 2011 and they basically said: "Oh good, you're here! Now we can go over all your new areas of responsibility! Instead of one area you now have seven, several mandatory 3-day meetings, and a high-visibility, high-impact project that we need done before the end of January. Have fun!" Basically, what this amounts to is that I will do my best to post the next chapter within a few weeks, but with surprises like that I'm not making any more promises, but I know that I won't go any slower than what I'm already doing! (Haha)

BTW, if you hadn't noticed, I killed off all of my OCs. There's something fun about killing off all your own creations. No, I don't have any children and I didn't start out with any.

I also "stole" one of Jazz's lines right out of AHM, although it's not the same word-for-word and Jazz isn't saying it in my fic. Points to anyone (besides Evil Ratchet) who caught it.


	15. Ch 8

Since it's been a while for most of you (-_-; …) I thought I'd include a reminder note about chapter 1: Remember how some of the Autobots were making fun of Prowl's reaction to Sideswipe's prank, referring to it as "breakdown" of some sort (at least for him)? If you do, then you're good for this chapter. If not, well you can fake that you recall it since I just summarized the main point, or go back and read/skim it.

Also, less important, there's a room Prowl used in the second chapter from Beachcomber's report. It's the room that no one used because it was on the lower deck, which was nearly destroyed.

* * *

"Hey Bee, you think you can cover my shift?" Jazz casually asked.

"Sorry Jazz. I'd love to help out but a few of us are taking Bluestreak out. We're hoping getting out will help get him out of his funk," Bumblebee apologized.

'_Yeah, well if you took my shift then I could nip the problem in the aft and fix both our troubles._' Jazz couldn't really fault Bumblebee and his overly-caring spark, even though he wanted to at the moment. It'd been almost a decaorn since Prowl had returned to duty and the troops had started noticing the unwelcome changes in Prowl after it had began to affect their daily activities. Some of the troops were having difficulty grasping the idea Prowl _could _change. They believed that Prowl was a stagnate mech who was about as emotionless, rigid, and detached as any Autobot could be. The unsettling changes in Prowl weren't anything they could readily pin down, but in some ways that only fueled the whispers quickly spreading around. The most common of these wild speculations focused on how he seemed colder and more aloof. The idea that Prowl could actually be colder and more aloof than before confused most mechs, especially Bluestreak. It wasn't that Prowl was ignoring or being unkind to Bluestreak, but the fretful mech idolized Prowl. At least Bluestreak hadn't heard the comparisons others were starting to make between Prowl and certain Decepticons.

At the moment, Jazz was just as lost as the rest of the troops for describing Prowl's newest changes. He tried to stop the speculations, especially the Decepticon ones, but Jazz couldn't provide a better answer so they ignored him. Jazz tried talking to Prowl, but one of Prowl's first tasks upon resuming his duties was rearranging the duty roster. This new roster was technically more efficient for the Autobot cause, playing to their strengths and numbers, but it was also causing morale to start dropping as friends found their once-synced schedules now divided. Op mechs were given more field work since they were the best equipped to observe Megatron's troops and improvise as needed. Jazz was finding himself out on the field more than he'd been since first landing on Earth. He wanted to catch Prowl before things got worse, but he had no valid complaints about his shifts and no one was interested in switching with him. It seemed his shifts were never synced up with anyone else's so there was never an incentive for someone to take his shift. Jazz found that to be suspicious.

"I don't suppose you know someone who would, huh?" Jazz asked, already expecting the usual response.

"Well no, but I did overhear Ironhide chewing out the twins. I wonder if they'll be punished and if he's already dealt it out yet," Bumblebee smiled slyly.

"Awesome. Thanks Bee," Jazz grinned. Bumblebee may have been a young Autobot with an almost sickeningly sweet spark, but he was Special Ops. He knew how to work system.

Jazz started hunting for Ironhide as he hailed him at the same time. His shift was starting too soon for him to sit around until Ironhide felt like responding.

::What the Pit do you want right now?:: came Ironhide's snappy reply.

::Heard you got some punishing to do.:: Jazz answered, ignoring Ironhide's rude response to his hail.

: :Yeah, so?::

::I want in, so to speak::

::Like how?:: Ironhide's skepticism could be heard over the line.

::I want someone to cover my shift.::

::That's your problem. If you got anything else, then feel free to speak but you'll have to ask Ratchet to share.:: Ironhide responded, the snippy tone still clear.

::I heard you had two perpetrators:: Jazz said, surprised.

::Yeah, but only one can be pinned for it. You want Sideswipe, you're gonna have to come up with a better reason and fight Ratchet for him::

::Damn.:: Jazz didn't keep the sourness out of his voice. Just as he resigned himself to his shift and began to close the line, however, Ironhide chimed up.

::Why is getting rid of this shift so important to you?::

::I want someone to cover my shift so I can talk to Prowl.::

::You wanna talk to him about the schedules?::

"Yeah," Jazz responded. _'That will probably come up,'_ Jazz mentally added.

::Well then you can have him and Ratchet will have to fight me. My new schedule has me working during my favorite show!:: Ironhide replied, almost too ecstatically. The snippiness was gone from his voice, replaced by irritation as he said the last part. He had missed one too many of his favorite hockey team's game and he would be damned if he was going to miss their upcoming shot in the playoffs.

::Great! Tell him to meet Hound in 2 breems outside the Ark doors.::

::Affirmative.::

'_Yes!_' Jazz mentally cheered. '_One obstacle down, now one more to go: finding the elusive Prowl_.'

/-/

Prowl put the stack of datapads down on the table, mildly enjoying how this partly-destroyed office Beachcomber found allowed him to avoid others almost effortlessly. Prowl was working his usually excess amount, but with the sheer quantity of complaining that came to his office, he sought out areas that would let him work uninterrupted. Prowl simply did not want any mech interaction. The general Autobot soldier seemed overwhelmed while they were around him. Not too long ago this would have bothered the tactician, but his secret program worked flawlessly. It quickly suppressed and erased any feedback from his emotional circuitry. However, he was quickly learning that the program was not without flaws. Whenever it was actively suppressing and eliminating this feedback he could feel a burning sensation in his CPU. It was easy enough to overcome though, by simply burying himself in his work and pushing his logic center harder to prevent himself from being effected by it. Soon, Prowl felt almost addicted to this odd "freedom," of sorts. He could keep working while not being burdened by emotions as he overheard the quiet rumors spreading about himself.

There was one thing that made it nearly impossible to ignore the burning sensation: when the few troops who seemed to care would come by and ask him what was wrong. One such face was Bluestreak's. It wasn't that Prowl didn't care for his brother, but Prowl couldn't provide the connection Bluestreak so desperately wanted without compromising his program. Prowl had never run the program this long and could only theorize what kind of ramifications that could happen if he stopped it. He was not willing to put himself on unsteady ground.

Prowl suddenly realized that he had finished working on the first batch of datapads in the stack. It was strange how fast work seemed to go when he couldn't be bothered, both internally and externally, he mused. However he did not linger long on the thought as he began working on the next batch. Ratchet's name floated up to him immediately as he looked at the medical requests and Prowl could actually _feel _the angry response at the sight of the medic's name before the program suppressed it. However, the program did not suppress the memory of Ratchet's bold and out of place words during his last post-op checkup.

"_Jazz is planning to come to his checkup appointment, right?" Ratchet almost absently asked as he fetched his scanner._

_Prowl nearly flinched at the mention of Jazz. "I don't know."_

"_How the Pit can you not know? You're the one who always forces him to stick to his appointments! Primus! What the Pit has gotten into you?"_

"_Excuse me? Is it a problem I no longer sparkling-sit an officer?" Prowl replied in rather bland tone._

"_Don't even try it, Prowl," Ratchet growled. "Both Ironhide and Optimus begged – well, begged and ordered - me not to bring this up, but I'm done with the slag. You haven't been your usual self and I'm starting to wonder if it's related to a medical issue I've missed. Why are you avoiding Jazz?"_

_The pointed question faintly raised Prowl's ire. "I don't see how that question is medically relevant, so you shouldn't so easily defy Prime's orders."_

"_Oh don't you try hiding behind rules and regulations, Prowl!" Ratchet snapped, waving the fetched scanner in his hand._

"'_Excuse me?"_

"_You know exactly what I mean! I've been CMO for a long time now and if I need to pull a medical concern out of my aft to defend my question, so help me, I Primus-damn will! _And_ I'll make sure it's some medical concern that requires you to be held under observation, so you'll have to put up with my smiley, happy-go-lucky face for a lot longer!" the irate Ratchet threatened before pausing to continue on. "Now answer the question, Prowl! Why are you behaving so different, especially towards Jazz?"_

"_I don't think you can think of something medical for that particular question."_

"_With all the crap I get from this army of 'colorful' mechs? Try me." Ratchet stared intently back at Prowl._

_Prowl sat on the bench quietly before he relented. "Why does it bother you so much?" he asked quietly. "I've been in a lot of battles with you and you were never so involved in anyone's life until Earth."_

_Ratchet paused, the anger held in his face before evaporating as the medic let out a weary sigh. Ratchet rubbed his optics and Prowl could suddenly see wear on Ratchet's face. Instead of ranting or giving Prowl his usual sarcastic response, Ratchet sat down beside the black and white mech. "It has been a lot of battles, hasn't it? Back on Cybertron it was a lot of battles with a lot of faces coming in or passing through. We had so many troops come and go through medbay that I rarely learned a name. If I did then it usually was when I wrote the report on their deactivation. Here though, the mechs don't come in once or twice, they come in repetitive cycles. I see Sideswipe in here almost every 8 orns and Hound every tenth orn from his first scheduled shift because he drove over some Earth naturey crap that doesn't play well with axels. It's hard not to be a part of their lives no matter how much I kick and scream. And trust me, I do kick and scream about it," Ratchet added with a weary grin._

"_The other things I see with the same small crew is what they're normally like and what they're like post-op," Ratchet carried on. "Here, I'll have a drink with Mirage one orn and the next he'll get some body part blown off in battle. Then I see him moping around and I know it's because some prized piece of armor from his home was destroyed. Just like I know Hound always has the right words to comfort that distant mech."_

_Ratchet turned and looked squarely in Prowl's optics. "One of the things I learned early on that most war medics don't look for is to watch. Before the war really escalated I watched everyone in my local unit because I knew that the real tale-tell signs of a mech's recovery weren't just the results my scanners give me, but also the changes in their daily routines. Then the war escalated and suddenly the friends whose wellbeing I took very personal were very much offline. Now I'm back in a similar situation and I can't help but want to avoid those memories of mechs and femmes disappearing before my optics._

"_Too many lives vanished before I had a chance to make a damn bit of difference, and not always by deactivation. Prowl, I know how this sounds but I don't care right now. I can see you disappearing. I've known you for a long time, and before Earth I never realized how much there was to know about you, nor how little anyone could ever know you. The only mech to get through all of that was Jazz. Now you're not talking to Jazz and with every passing orn I can see you becoming a little emptier inside. I don't want to watch you disappear from the inside out. It's a slow and painful death. One I have seen many go through and I know there's a point of no return for every mech."_

_Prowl stared quietly, unsure how to take Ratchet's unusually open answer. "I won't disappear."_

"_Trust me; it's not a single event that makes a mech disappear. It's the accumulation of them. You'll never realize how far you're gone until you've reached your breaking point."_

_Prowl looked at Ratchet, growing more uncomfortable as time moved on by Ratchet's honest and almost ominous words. "You think not being around Jazz will cause a breaking point?"_

"_I think having no one in your life that did for you what Jazz did will bring you there, yes."_

_Prowl looked away as he mulled over Ratchet's words. After a bream of silence Ratchet rose and began his checkup. The enter checkup was eerily quiet, with only the bare minimum of questions and answers to be heard. After that, Prowl left with a small 'thank you.'_

Now Prowl was alone with Ratchet's words repeating themselves over and over in his head. '_He's being over sensitive. He's probably been in medbay too long. Prime should consider giving him leave.'_ Prowl quickly signed the medical requests and moved on, eager to stop thinking about Ratchet.

Apparently the universe didn't like that, as he was hailed by none other than Ratchet. ::Ratchet to Prowl.::

::Yes?:: Prowl replied politely, ignoring the heated tone in Ratchet's voice.

::I need you to review the newest reprimand report from Ironhide. I was supposed to have Sideswipe do some of that mind-numbing medical inventory stuff, but at the last moment Ironhide re-assigned Sideswipe's punishment to someone else.::

::And…?::

::And I don't want to do it myself!:: Ratchet snapped.

::In other words, you want me to pull rank over Ironhide so you can have time to yourself?:: Prowl politely inquired.

::No, I don't need Ironhide even more bitchy than he already is. Just… Just see if Sideswipe's punishment deserves more than whatever he's doing now.:: Ratchet practically purred, most likely delighted at the idea of seeing Sideswipe's face after learning he's still counting all of Ratchet's tools.

::I'll review the document.:: Prowl promised as he closed the line. Unfortunately, the report in question wasn't with him, so Prowl would have to return to his office to fetch it. While Prowl didn't feel like going to his office, he knew that Ratchet would come hunt him down personally if the medic didn't have a response within the next joor.

Prowl was faintly annoyed by the time he neared the common area. As he walked to his office he suddenly felt light headed, a sign that his CPU was operating on low energon. He nearly fell, grabbing the wall just in time to hold himself up.

"You alright, Prowl?"

Prowl looked over towards the voice and found Bumblebee staring at him with alarm etched in his face. "I'm fine. Please continue with what you were doing."

"But Prowl…"

"I said continue on. If I have to say it a third time, I will write it up as insubordination." Prowl straightened his posture and pressed forward despite the ill feeling present in his system.

Bumblebee frowned but left Prowl's side as he resumed moving the opposite direction of Prowl. '_I should tell Jazz before I leave. He'll know what to do._'

Prowl entered his abnormally empty office and reached for the stacked pile in his Inbox. No one seemed to know how much work it took to run an army and if anyone realized that occurred only after he left two joors ago, well, they probably would be mortified and beg to never be promoted.

'_Especially Jazz._' The amused thought crossed his mind before he quickly pushed it away. For all he knew, Jazz's opinion could have changed. It was unlikely, given that Jazz's attitude towards diplomatic or administrative tasks hadn't changed over the vorns, but the saboteur also liked to "shake things up." Prowl had learned that meant being randomly illogical. Regardless of Jazz's actions, Prowl had gone out of his way to avoid Jazz so the charismatic and stubborn saboteur would not break down the walls and defense he'd put up. Unfortunately, Prowl had not anticipated the loneliness this had caused. The loneliness was more apparent when Prowl felt stress but didn't have Jazz's usual companionship to help him relax. Even now, Prowl could feel the stress build even higher as he thought about some of Jazz's mad methods to force Prowl into taking a break.

"You gonna keep staring at that Pit-spawned pile all orn?"

Prowl's head popped up, surprised at the unexpected second voice – a voice belonging to none other than Jazz. Prowl recovered from his surprise and grabbed Ironhide's datapad as he turned to face his unexpected guest. "I didn't let you in."

"Nope."

"Please explain how you managed to sneak into an officer's office without even letting the door make a sound."

"Hmm, no." Jazz replied cheekily.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Jazz said as he grinned. "The way I see, you've got three options now: escort me to Prime or the brig, call Ironhide and wait with me, or do nothing. Since you've been avoiding me, I bet the first two seem pretty unappealing."

Prowl stifled a groan at Jazz's annoying perceptiveness and moved to stand behind his desk, searching for a few items in his top drawer. He didn't actually need them, but it gave him an excuse to be less inviting to Jazz. "What can I do for you? Please be quick. I have other things to attend."

"Yeah, like what? From what I hear, you haven't been attending whatever doesn't specifically require you to be there. I'd say you're an imposture because the real Prowl never slacks off, but somehow you've been finishing your work faster than normal."

"I did not say I had a meeting or a demonstration to attend. I have a lot of work waiting for me."

Jazz looked around, noting that only Prowl's Inbox held any work. For Prowl, the pile sitting in that Inbox wasn't large. "Where?"

"Excuse me? Where what?" Prowl looked up after Jazz's question.

"Where's the work?"

"I took it with me."

"Really?" Jazz raised his optic ridge. "See, I came here earlier and when I didn't find you, I went to your quarters. I know you weren't there. I only came back here to double-check. So where's your new office?"

A muffled yelp was suddenly heard from outside Prowl's door after a loud "bang" from someone walking into Prowl's mysteriously still-closed door, saving Prowl from answering the question, at least for the moment. Jazz muttered a curse before _pulling _Prowl's door back to reveal a stunned Sideswipe on the floor.

"You used the Special Ops device for deactivating and unlocking doors," the tactician said as the realization dawned on him.

"I'll fix it when I'm done talking to you," Jazz grumbled as he pulled Sideswipe up. Jazz resisted the urge to scowl at Sideswipe. Every time Jazz tried to talk to Prowl privately something would always interrupt them.

"What happened?" Sideswipe asked, still a little stunned. '_Is my nose crooked?_' he wondered, staring at the tip of his nose that seemed to point a little more left. If he was anything like his twin he probably would've ignored Jazz's response in favor of figuring what was exactly wrong with his nose. Luckily, he was nothing like his brother in that regard, which suited him just fine. He had a reason for being here.

"Maintenance issue," Jazz stated. "What's up? You're supposed to be covering my shift," the TIC pointed out. Prowl raised an optic ridge. It seemed that he found out what happened with Sideswipe's punishment without even needing to investigate Ironhide's report.

"Yeah, and I think that's a crap punishment. Why am I covering your shift? Covering someone else's stupid shift isn't part of the reprimand standards," Sideswipe returned.

"Oh, like you know the standard," Jazz said sarcastically.

"Actually he does," Prowl interjected, wanting this 'meeting' to end. "He's been the source of so many problems that he can recite the Reprimand Policies and Standards."

"Yeah, well one of your punishments a while back was to study the datapad to 'see if anything could stick in a delinquent CPU like mine'," Sideswipe groused.

"Do you know what the original punishment was to be?" Jazz was dumbfounded by the sudden twist.

"Yeah."

"Then I'll find something else suitable for you," Prowl informed Sideswipe.

"But Ratchet…" Sideswipe began to protest.

"… Will want nothing to do with you once I inform him you asked to be given your original punishment," Prowl finished. "I'm sure Ratchet will understand. I don't know what underhanded motivation you have, but I won't assist you in achieving it."

"No, no, nothing underhanded," Sideswipe immediately tried to sooth Prowl's suspicions. "But I know that Ratchet's inventory can't be done until all the equipment is pulled up. Since I don't know where all the equipment is stored, Ratchet or one of his backups has to do it. Normally he has me wait with him so I don't, uh, become preoccupied by something else, but he's currently busy with Wheeljack. That means I wouldn't have to report to him for at least another 3 joors."

"You waited until Ratchet became distracted to complain so you could get a break." Prowl realized Sideswipe had put more thought into whatever he was planning.

"Hey, I'm not the one who technically broke policy. Why should I suffer?" Sideswipe asked innocently.

"Now hang on," Jazz cut in. "If it was against policy, then why did Ironhide – " Jazz cut himself short, realizing that the frustrated Ironhide probably violated policy when Jazz dangled that tantalizing offer in front of him. Jazz could see a gleam in Sideswipe's optic and Jazz realized he'd also inadvertently hung Ironhide out the window. "Maybe so, but I don't think you should be rewarded either for whatever the Pit you did."

"Hey, two wrongs don't make a right!" Sideswipe indignantly protested.

"Don't misquote me," Prowl chimed in. Jazz looked at Prowl, confused since Sideswipe's statement was a common expression. Then again, it was an Earth expression so who knew if Prowl was aware of that.

Seeing Jazz's confused look, Prowl elaborated. "When I said that to him, I was referring to him and his twin trying to tell me their version of the truth."

"Come on, Prowl. If you re-assign me back to my original punishment, I'll work a free shift," Sideswipe promised.

Sideswipe's angelic tone combined with his offer made Prowl worry. His battle simulator immediately began analyzing the possibilities of why Sideswipe would willingly offer to subject himself to even more punishment. "No. You will report to Wheeljack and Perceptor and see if they need any assistance." As a precaution, Prowl prepared to issue an alert to Wheeljack, Perceptor, Ratchet, and Ironhide about Sideswipe's unusual antics. Before he could send it, however, the frustration of being thwarted apparently got the better of Sideswipe.

"Damn it, Prowl! I know your job is to make everyone just as miserable as you because you sold your spark to get your hands on the logical answers to the universe, but some of us are trying to make the best of what we've got! Geez, go have another mini-breakdown like the last time we talked and maybe you'll reset right for once. At least we'll all have another good laugh one way or another." Sideswipe snarled.

Sideswipe's blatant jab at the painful orn before Prowl's attack, cut Prowl deep. Deeper than he could have ever prepare himself for because it reminded him of his betrayed feelings caused by the troops. It was also the same orn he discovered his over sight that allowed everything that transpired to fall in place. Before Prowl could figure out a response, however, Jazz was already giving his.

"Hey! What do you think you are doing, talking to a superior officer like that? You should be ashamed of yourself – what's next, you going to tell Bluestreak to stop being such a sparkling and stuff him into a hole by himself? Tell him that if he whines one more time about how he's upset about Prowl that you'll remove his vocal unit because less than half of us can stand how he gets his fears off his chest? Maybe we should reformat your alt mode into a pooper scooper because you would be at least marginally useful by cleaning up your own shit." Jazz roared as he grabbed Sideswipe. "I wanted to finish my conversation with Prowl, but now I'm so pissed that I can't see straight. I don't know if I should call Ironhide to take you the brig so I can finish with Prowl or throw you in the brig to get the satisfaction of seeing your face hit the ground."

Whatever Sideswipe's response's to Jazz's outcry was lost on Prowl as the tactician's mind froze at Jazz's comment about his youngest sibling's pain. Prowl had tried his best to protect himself while not harming Bluestreak, but apparently he failed. Not only that, but he hadn't even noticed. How could he overlook such a simple task with such a transparent mech?

Prowl's over-stressed and strained battle simulator began to seize on him as he tried to continually analyze the events unfolding before him. Before Prowl could stop it he suddenly felt a huge drop in energy and his optics momentarily cut out. The next thing Prowl knew he was bent over trying to hold himself up on the desk as his CPU began to burn white hot. His sight returned but the images in front of him were clouded over by static. A clicking sound began to echo in his audios but Prowl couldn't tell if it was from outside, his CPU, or if his audios were also beginning to fritz. His CPU hurt so much, breaking his focus on terminating the analysis program.

Jazz was cut short in mid-tirade as he heard Prowl gasp. Both he and Sideswipe stopped their yelling as they turned to see Prowl bent over, clutching his desk. "Prowl – " Jazz's words were cut short as Prowl's legs bucked and Prowl fell side-first into the floor, an audible 'crunch' filling the air from Prowl landing on his doorwing.

"Prowl!" Jazz cried out as he ran to his fallen friend's side. He immediately sent a Code 1 medical alert to Ratchet. He turned to Sideswipe and locked his optics into the horrified mech's. "Go meet Ratchet and explain the situation to him!" Jazz snapped, before returning his attention back to Prowl and paying no more heed to Sideswipe. "Prowl, can you hear me?"

Prowl barely heard Jazz's question as his audios kept shortening out and the loud clicks. He suspected that the clicking was coming from his CPU since the clicks occurred even when his audios were shortening out. Prowl somehow managed to keep enough sense to re-route what was left of his fading energy to his optics so they wouldn't short out again, but he was unable to remove the static clouding nearly every pixel of his vision. A part of him was trying to hide his crash even though he knew that wasn't logically sound, considering that he was lying on the floor. But as the moment stretched on, it seemed more and more logical. Clearly the fall had damaged Prowl's CPU and logic center. Or was the lack of energy? Or perhaps it was the burning sensation eating at his logic center? Prowl's mind was begging to become foggy and confused. Several messages belatedly appeared in the corner of his optic but Prowl couldn't focus on them. The pain in his CPU seemed to be growing as if it was devouring the components and connectors inside his helm.

"Damn it, Prowl! I said talk to me!" Jazz had to resist the urge to shake Prowl after seeing the damage to Prowl's doorwing. The damage wasn't too terrible, save for the still-flowing energon leak, but shaking Prowl could drive the further doorwing into the floor. Unable to get a response from Prowl, Jazz reached over Prowl's torso and used his polish rag to block the energon leak. '_Why hasn't Prowl shut that off?_' Jazz fretted. From what he'd gather, energon leaks from doorwings could be easily stopped by shutting off the line. Jazz put his hand on Prowl's shoulder and firmly grasped it as he continued to block the leak, praying that the contact would get through to Prowl. "Come on, Prowl. Shut off the energon leak in your doorwing," Jazz pleaded. It wasn't a large energon leak by any means, but Jazz didn't know what was wrong with Prowl. His comrade seemed otherwise fine, apart from being almost too still, so why wasn't he being responsive? Jazz bent over and tried looking into Prowl's optics only to find them grainy and unfocused. Jazz had only seen the grainy look a few times on dying field mechs.

Somewhere in Prowl's clouded mind, Jazz's presence was able to cut through the fog. '_Jazz?_' Prowl wanted to reach out for comfort from his estranged-friend, afraid of what was wrong. His head burned so much.

Abruptly Jazz could feel a surprisingly-warm hand around his hand on Prowl's shoulder. Jazz looked down and saw Prowl's hand on top of his, quickly quelling his near panic attack after seeing Prowl's grainy optics. "Prowl," Jazz whispered. The pressure on his hand tightened as Prowl closed his hand around Jazz's fingers. Unable to do much else, Jazz squeezed back.

"What's his status?" the sharp voice of Ratchet cut in. Jazz looked up and saw Ratchet and Sideswipe coming into the office.

"I don't know! Lying prone on his side with an energon leak!" Jazz cried out, frustrated at his inability to help. Ratchet was immediately at Prowl's injured doorwing, using some compound Jazz didn't recognize to cover the leak.

Ratchet was kneeling by Prowl's head, running a scanner over Prowl as he barked out orders. "Prowl's CPU isn't function to even half capacity. He's not going to move on his own. We need to grab him and move him to medbay now!"

Jazz held Prowl's shoulder and side, unwilling to break his contact with Prowl. The other two in the room repositioned themselves to move Prowl while supporting his weight. The group began to move Prowl while Ratchet kept scanning Prowl.

"Wheeljack, Perceptor," Ratchet barked at the scientists over his communicator as he continued to scan the stricken mech. "You need to add an energon feed to Prowl immediately once we get him in medbay. He has less than 30% energon."

"What?" Jazz yelped. "The leak wasn't that bad!"

"No, but I'm reading high amounts of strain and damage to his CPU. Usually when this kind of strain and damage occurs, the system alert to refuel can be suppressed. Whatever caused this must have started a while ago to bring his energon levels down this far."

Before Jazz could ask any more questions they had reached medbay. They placed Prowl down as Ratchet began grabbing his tools. Ratchet and the two waiting medically-trained mechs immediately went into action, almost completely ignoring the non-medical mechs standing off to the side.

They were quickly remembered when Ratchet saw them out of the corner of his optic. "Get out!" he snapped. Jazz turned to leave but Sideswipe didn't follow. Jazz looked back and saw Sideswipe staring at Prowl, fear in his face. Jazz grabbed Sideswipe and pulled him out the door.

Once the doors closed the two of them were alone. Both stared back at the doors for a few moments without saying a word.

"Do you, uh…" Sideswipe spoke, almost too distracted to finish his sentence. "Do you think I did that?"

Although he was mad at Sideswipe for his callous words earlier, Jazz's empathic side still reached out to the distressed mech. "No. Ratchet said it was something that'd been happening for a while."

"But he hasn't been out of medbay that long." Sideswipe looked at Jazz, worry still clear on his face. "Do you think it's something from the attack? Like maybe that Decepticon gave Prowl a virus that wasn't picked up on Ratchet's scanners?"

"Ratchet's scanners are the best the Autobots have. There's no virus out there that can't be detected," Jazz said softly. The idea that a secret surprise could've been left behind from that awful mech's attack was more than upsetting.

"Yeah, but I saw the damage when Prowl came in from that attack. What kind of mech can do that? And what if Ratchet didn't think to scan for any software damage?"

"Don't let Ratchet hear you doubt his check ups." Jazz tried to calm the fretful mech. "You know Ratchet. You'll go in for sleep deprivation and you'll end up stuck in medbay for like 3 joors as he checks you in and out before he gives you anything to help you stay offline just incase. Whatever is wrong with Prowl, it wasn't from the battle. Ratchet would've caught it – virus and all."

"Yeah. I mean – it's just, well…" the red mech was still upset and Jazz's words were unable to calm him down. Seeing the lack of impact his reassuring words had, Jazz tried a different tactic as he reached out and gave Sideswipe a reassuring pat on the arm.

"Although this doesn't change anything and your aft should still be in the brig, why don't you stay in the Rec Room? It might help ease your mind. I promise I'll come deal with your punishment once Prowl's okay."

Sideswipe fidgeted before nodding. He began to walk away, but he was stopped only a few paces away before turning back to Jazz. "He'll be okay though, right? I said all those mean things right before he crashed and Ratchet said it had to do with strain in his CPU. What if I did cause some of that? What if I was, uh what does Spike say… what if I was the straw that broke the camel's back?"

Jazz stared at the mech, torn between trying to help him and telling him that he deserved the guilt. Instead, Jazz chose a different path. "Why'd you do it? Why'd you say all those things?"

Sideswipe looked down at his peds. "It's just that it's been so stressful, you know? I mean, we spent decaorns stuck inside the base before the fight. I felt like I was going insane."

"Yeah, I remember your little insane stunt. Pretty much scarred everyone here, especially since it was an unexpected lesson to those unfamiliar with biological creatures."

"Yeah." Sideswipe sighed before leaning up against the wall. "I just wanted something to break the monotony of it all. And then before I knew it, I was in the muddiest battle of my life. It seemed like a great way to get rid of all my pent up energy and frustration, ya know? I mean, there's no cure to stress like taking it out on a Decepticon's face. Plus seeing Sunstreaker's reaction to mud was priceless. But then after all that fun I find out that our SIC is MIA so I joined the search party. Not only did we fail to get to him in time, but I saw Prowl right before he disappeared into medbay. Next thing I know he comes back out and he's so different. He changed all the schedules around to 'improve efficiency,' but I don't seem to share a single shift with a friend. Almost none of my friends are free when I'm off either. I think it just got to me, not being able to do anything useful or have any fun. I just lashed out at Prowl."

"Well, you were successful in getting half the base to make fun of the situation you put him in right before the battle," Jazz said quietly.

"I know. I shouldn't have egged on the Aerialbots or the others to do a better job in the 'Make Prowl snap' game."

"When did you do that?" Jazz asked.

"Uh, like before, during, and after my prank?"

"Who else did you get in on the game?"

"Hey," Sideswipe said as he looked at Jazz with a faint gleam of his usual attitude in his optics, "I'm not feeling so down as to tell on my friends."

"Worth a shot."

"Yeah, that's what I thought too. Now look what happened." Sideswipe gestured towards the medbay doors.

"Then maybe you should go back to the Rec Room and try to undo all of that. Maybe instead of trying to poke and prod at Prowl like there's something wrong with him, maybe you should all learn to accept him as he is and adjust to his ways. He's never going to come around if you gang up and mock him."

Sideswipe nodded and pulled himself back up. "I guess that's fair. You gonna do your usual business? With Prowl out of commission, someone is gonna need to tackle that Inbox I saw in his office."

"Nah, I don't' feel like working right now. I'll be in a little bit." Jazz said as he turned back to medbay, his back facing Sideswipe. After a moment Jazz heard Sideswipe walk away. After Jazz could no longer hear the faint echo of the red mech's steps, he sat down, breaking rule to continue his duties for the first time.

* * *

Yay, one more chapter and then this fic is done! As much as I love the fic, I despise how drawn out this has become thanks to my total failure to figure out how to balance my life. Stupid adulthood ;p

I do have some parting ideas, however, that I'll add on to the end note of the final chapter. Which, BTW, the rough draft version is already half written! Yay! Usually I don't start before I post the previous chapter but I finally broke my writer's block with some really fun ideas. Evil Ratchet, be prepared :) Although not right now, cuz I'm gonna go hobble off and get me some crutches. Yay… crutches… -.-


	16. Ch 9

I swear this is it! This is really the ending! I divided the ending into three chapters for reading ease, especially the send chapter (hence part 1 and part 2). I didn't want to cut stuff out since many of you have stuck it out, waiting for me to complete this for over a year. I appreciate it and didn't want to short change you.

* * *

Not for the first time in less than two decaorns, Prowl onlined in a quiet medbay. However, unlike last time, his backup systems didn't activate like before. Prowl was immediately alarmed since crashes usually generated some immediate activity from his systems upon onlining. His alarm only escalated when he realized he couldn't move, locking him in a horizontal position on a berth.

"Ya know, I'm always telling Sideswipe and Sunstreaker that I've rebuilt both of them so many times I know the in and outs of their every system and piece of structure," Ratchet's voice cut in, disrupting the worried tactician's thoughts. "That's true for at least half the crew. You," a finger appeared in Prowl's vision as the red digit was jabbed between his optics, "are not part of that half. I always considered that a good thing, but it turns out there is one bad thing about you rarely being one of my stress factors – I don't know your systems as well as I think I do. You have _no _idea how hard that is to admit, by the way."

Prowl felt Ratchet reach behind him and was both surprised and chagrined to feel Ratchet prop him up into a sitting position. "Why can't I move my legs or arms on my own?"

"Because I'm not letting you slip away asI yell at you, oh no," Ratchet practically purred, "you will sit here and listen to _everything_ I have to say."

"Why did you move me into a sitting position?"

"Because I want to yell and rant at you while looking straight at you, not down at you. It let's me have _so _much more fun because I can rant as wildly as I want without having to stay in place."

Prowl raised an optic ridge in response to Ratchet's unusual tone that held a certain amount strain. He had a suspicion that Ratchet was going to "let him have it," as various Autobots said when describing these moments. He became even more suspicious that he was correct the moment he realized that he was _feeling_ fear.

"I'm so happy you and I have a few moments. And believe me, after I realized what happened, I damn well made sure we'll have a few moments. Wheeljack is standing guard on the other side of the medbay doors right now with some gadget that looks like it'll explode if you look at wrong." Ratchet moved to stand perfectly in front of Prowl, glaring intently into his optics. "Wanna say anything before I start? Because I don't intend to let you get a word in edgewise unless I ask for it."

Prowl considered what his options were that would get him into less trouble. To his horror, his logic center wouldn't activate.

"I see you're trying to use your logic center to figure the best way out of this. Well too damn bad Prowl, because I got these really cool toys that won't let you," Ratchet announced, almost too gleefully.

"Ratchet, I think in light of that, I should – "

"Time's up! Now it's my turn!" Ratchet's cheerful voice cut Prowl off. A cheerful voice that could only be described as a masquerading calm before the storm. Like Ratchet was enjoying Prowl's unease before he cast down an unholy wrath upon Prowl's spark. Prowl's core temperature dropped a few degrees when Ratchet returned to glaring into his optics. "You know, when I saw you at our last appointment, I was worried about you. To the point I was openly nice and caring. Guh! Do you know how wrong that felt? That's not the usual me but I thought, 'poor Prowl, he needs help because bad stuff is happening to him and blah blah blah.'

"Now I come to find out that the latest bad stuff that happened was actually because you did it yourself! Is it your goal to die without caring about it or what you're leaving behind? Because if that oh-so-cute program you developed hadn't failed as soon as it did, that's what would've happened after it was done killing you!"

Prowl's optics widened and immediately he tried to protest.

"No, shut up, Prowl! You will _not _interrupt me on this!" Ratchet nearly bellowed as he threw his hands up. "Do you know what those 'annoying little emotional circuits' control? Everything we relate to feeling in our own systems, from emotional need to physical need. Things like pain and hunger. I'm sure if you had it your way this would be two completely different systems, but believe it or not, this stuff is processed through one system for a reason. It helps you prioritize better. If you feel fear and pain at the same time, the system analyzes everything related to the cause of each and helps determine which you should focus on. It's meant to help us stay level-headed and focused in tricky situations. It's all about efficiency and survival, especially in this crappy war."

Once again, Prowl tried to comment but was promptly ignored as Ratchet continued on. "Sure, a mech like you who hates that icky fuzzy feeling of – oh I don't know, love – would like nothing better than to turn it off on the battle field. You know why no one has that function? Besides being a vital tool in making calls during the heat of battle, it also helps assist with what you can personally handle. I wonder if there's a good example for this," Ratchet trailed of as if to ponder an idea. Once again the irritated tactician tried to speak up only to beaten to the punch.

"Oh I know! Let's say someone skips his energon, figuring there's nothing wrong at operating at 80% power," Ratchet paused to give Prowl a dirty look before he began pacing around, as if describing a purely hypothetical situation. "I mean, why would there be? If you just do desk work, you could work for an entire orn and only spend up to 20% of that power. Except oh damn, looks like Megatron and his stupid minions are attacking some human city and now you'll be under-fueled for battle. Perhaps you can drink a cube on the way out? Oh wait – there's no way to drink it on the way while you're in alt mode. Well what about drinking it after you get to the battle field? Should you hide out and drink it or ask good ol' Megs if he'll call a truce until you can get your lunch? Let's see… if you hide then you can't do your job, not to mention it isn't easy to hide a bright pink cube amongst hungry Decepticons. What about Option Number 2? I think the chances of that working are on par with convincing Sideswipe to put on a pink fluffy dress and sing Disney princess songs. It's just not going to happen and you're likely to get shot after asking. And don't ask me why I know what a 'Disney princess' is.

"So what happens when you start battle at roughly 80% power, Prowl?" Still frustrated, Prowl tried to rebut Ratchet's story. Unfortunately for the unhappy patient, Ratchet didn't actually mean for that to be a question. "You start using up the 80% rather quickly, at least when you compare it to your desk job. That'll either leave you at Megatron and his troops' mercy or some Autobot will be forced to break off from fighting and drag your glitched aft to safety. Doesn't seem too practical or logical to skip refueling any more, does it?"

Prowl waited a moment before he realized Ratchet had actually paused in his rant. "Of course not, and I didn't do that – "

"Oh, but you did!" Ratchet crooned. "You left yourself incredibly vulnerable to any threats, both here and out there. Even off the battle field your actions could have had really dire effects! The way I see it, the base is also a battlefield for all officers and medical staff. Do you think Sideswipe or any of the others are going to let you go if you need to refuel? That's like hitting a golden opportunity for them because they know you'll be out of it until you process that energon. You screwed up, Prowl," Ratchet said as he jabbed a nearby tool at Prowl. "You screwed up big time. If I were to speak in terms that your thickheaded, workaholic helm could understand, you let yourself go so far that you failed to protect the front back here. It's your job to keep that stuff in mind and you didn't consider it, so you can count this one as a fail for you." Ratchet shook his head at the annoyed and slightly frightened tactician.

"And do you know how this failure would've ended, thanks to that little program? It would've ended with your systems drying up because the program kept suppressing the feeling of hunger, thereby tricking you into falling behind on refueling. And with your incredibly focused workaholic ways, you weren't doing the basic stuff like checking your systems or energon levels!"

"Yes I did!" Prowl snapped over Ratchet.

"Yeah, like three orns before your crash! I checked your internal logs! Gee Prowl, does that sound like a smart move when you have a typical daily consumption rate of twenty percent – never mind the consumption rate of someone who's still healing? Why don't you run that one through the battle simulator sometime after I reactivate it? Gah, I hate those things!"

Prowls optics once again widened in surprise. "What?"

"You heard me. I hate logic centers, battle simulators, inbuilt scientific equipment, you name. They are annoyingly complex and the slightest change can screw up a number of things. Especially ones like yours," Ratchet stopped moving and gave Prowl a fixed look. "I've never had to really worry about your battle simulator until now, and I wished I had or at least focused on it some more because I noticed that thing has been there for a very long time. Like before you were fully upgraded." Ratchet stood in front of Prowl. "Whose stupid aft decision was to put a battle simulator in a sparkling's helm?"

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Prowl," Ratchet growled. "Trust me; there are ways to tell how long something has been installed. I may not know all of them, but I know the ones I'm seeing on your logic center."

Prowl stared at the looming, angry CMO. Part of him was scrambling for an answer to a question he hadn't thought about since pretty much sparklinghood, while the other part was secretly enjoying to silence. "I don't completely remember," he finally admitted. "I can speculate, however. I've had it well before Smokescreen was created, which makes my sparker the most likely candidate."

"Why would any creator think that was a good move on someone so young?"

"Again, Ratchet, I don't completely remember. I suppose it has something to do with his expectations for me and what he thought was the best course of action for getting me there."

"Wow, sounds like a real winner for a creator. I hope you give him the hell he deserved for that, especially since logic centers do not go through the upgrade cycles very well."

"I did not." Prowl really didn't want to discuss how Blacksmoke was gone by then.

"Well that's no fun," Ratchet said, almost disappointed. "You really should have. Do you have any idea why no one with half a spark of sanity and intelligence does that to a sparkling?"

Prowl tried to respond but he was at a loss of words; namely, because he didn't know what concerns Ratchet had.

After a few moments of silence, Ratchet snorted before explaining in an exasperated tone. "No words? I guess I shouldn't expect any, given you had no chance in the matter and therefore couldn't do your countless joors of research on the matter. Well, let me save you those countless joors of searching later by telling you now: logic centers are treated as a piece of equipment for fully upgraded mechs and femmes to use only. They can and will mess with you – Pit, they can even warp your fundamental coding if the necessary precautions, training, and monitoring are not taken. I took the liberty of forcing Perceptor to shift through the archives for Praxus to see if there were any medical records of you as a sparkling and there's not. Talk about having idiots for creators."

Unaware that medical records from Praxus could even be found, Prowl mulled over the lack of medical records for him as a sparkling. He remembered from his brothers' sparklinghood that Praxians had obsessive tendencies with making sure that their young grew up as healthy, so the lack of records would be odd.

Seeing Prowl's attention drift off, Ratchet snapped his fingers in Prowl's face, receiving a heated glare in return. "Well?"

"'Well' what?"

"Why don't you have medical records from way back then? And don't tell me you don't know because you were so young. I know you can figure it out."

Although unpleased by the stubborn medic's intrusive questions, Prowl realized that he could surmise the answer from what he did know about his life back then. "My sparker's believed that medical checkups were a nuisance meant for the weak and timid, if I recall correctly."

"Wow, what a truly awesome guy. I half expect that he had you painted black with flames."

"Not that this is relevant, but he did not chose that. I remember my creator was the one who chose my paint color and I was a light blue. There were certain aspects of her that were strong-willed and she was determined to help me blend in with the rest of the sparklings."

"Blue? I can't even picture that, but I guess it's a perfect cover to hide a messed up sparkling, complete with borderline-illegal upgrades, in plain view. After all, no one questions the wellbeing of sparklings so long as they have a pretty paint job." Ratchet stopped and furrowed his optic ridges. '_Wait; there is something familiar about that description_.' Baffled, Ratchet began searching through his lengthy memories for anything resembling that description.

His search was cut short when a shocked and angry Prowl demanded an explanation. "What do you mean by 'messed up sparkling with a borderline-illegal upgrades'? What authority or knowledge do you have to decide that I was 'messed up?' I don't consider my logic center to be a 'nearly-illegal upgrade.' You may be angry, Ratchet, but there is no excusing these insults."

"Well for starters, the medical community has pretty much always considered an early installation of a logic center to be criminal. It warps a mech's thinking, and the younger they are they more they're likely to change. Younger mechs will randomly use their logic center, preventing them from learning and developing on their own. The sparkling's personal logic abilities and moral abilities are not yet define and they end up relying heavily on the equipment to make those choices for them. We actually did studies on this kind of stuff and the results show that long-term use of the equipment can cripple a mech's ability to grow and comprehend situations where the logic answer isn't always the best one. The only reason the medical community stopped questioning the implication of this kind of upgrade is because of this damn war."

"Clearly your study had a fault. I have been using the equipment for a long time and I've been able to comprehend situations on my own."

"Yeah, but you didn't start out like that," Ratchet pointed out. "I remember you well before you became Prime's Second. You were harsh and unyielding, very methodical in your every action. It was kinda scary. Your efficiency and stats got you promoted pretty far but after a while you stopped being promoted."

"I remember." Prowl remembered the frustration of being passed for a promotion several times despite being the logical choice. At least, according to his logic center.

"Yeah, and I remember how Jazz's promotions eventually brought you two back to the same squad, although it was the first time you two actually worked together. Remember those orns, Prowl?" Ratchet grinned, recalling all the commotion Jazz's arrival had caused. "Jazz pretty much ruined your daily schedule and the two of you went from being 'old pals' to being near enemies. The two of you had developed very different ideas of battle plans and how to run a division. I don't know if someone finally gave in or if you developed a mutual understanding of each other, but things eventually leveled out. Jazz's plans developed more structure and you, well, let's just say you were less scary to those around you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, it seems that a few of Jazz's values became your values too, at least to some degree. Not to say you relied on your feelings or instincts like Jazz does, but you started to consider the feelings or instincts others might have and developed a response based on that. Prowl, my annoying friend, that isn't from your logic center. Whenever you make a decision that isn't pure logic, then that decision comes from what you learned from Jazz. Primus knows no one else would try and get through to you. And if I recall correctly, the next available promotion after that was the one you got." Ratchet grinned as he proved his point.

Prowl considered everything Ratchet had said. "Was I truly scary?"

"Not in a horror-film kind of way," Ratchet assured him. "For most mechs it was you being too difficult to understand."

"And what kind of fear was it for you?" Prowl could detect in Ratchet's voice that he didn't include himself in that group.

Ratchet shook his head. "You don't want to know."

"Yes I do." Prowl stared intently into Ratchet's optics. The tactician knew that Ratchet had one of the most objective views of those around him, even if he didn't act like it. Fact was, like Prowl, Ratchet was trained to look at tough situations objectively and collect data over an extended period of time.

"Fine, but only because I know you won't let it go. I…" Ratchet hesitated, cursing his personal objection to lying. "I wondered if and when you would defect to the Decepticons."

"What?" Prowl nearly yelled.

"Oh calm down. I don't think that anymore and I haven't for quite some time. It's just that… well, look: do you know what happened to the majority of the register sparklings or mechs who had a logic center put in earlier than the recommendations lined out by the medical boards?"

"No, and given that you didn't know that fact about me, that shouldn't matter."

"You behaved the same as the rest of your peers, even if I didn't know that you were part of that group of misfortunate mechs. Anyway, of those mechs like you, virtually all of them were identified as Decepticons by the Autobot council – well before those orns when I questioned your fate." Ratchet stated matter-of-factly. The harsh reality of what others similar to the SIC had become hung in the air, leaving Prowl stunned and speechless. Although it wasn't a truth Ratchet wanted to leave inflicted on the poor tactician, he decided to let Prowl think about that statement for a few more moments. Finally Ratchet spoke up.

"I'm not saying that they all became Decepticons the moment each faction was formed. A lot of them did start out as Autobots, actually. I think that the root of their defects stem from the Autobots putting considerably more weight in things they couldn't comprehend or didn't value because they were 'illogical,' or weak. Decepticons are in the overall sense very structured and methodical since they place most of their values in the physical relm. Their motto of the strong should rule has a great deal of appeal to those who rely solely on logic because it relies on a tangible object. Not to mention that tangible object offers makes it easy to keep the structure in order, something you've always wanted."

"So that's what you thought of me because I shared a common desire and behaved like those who defected to the Decepticons? I'm surprised it changed, given that you didn't know the truth of my logic center's installation and statistics showed that mechs like me didn't always feel compelled to be an Autobot," Prowl responded, somewhat defensively.

"They didn't have someone like Jazz."

"Excuse me? What does Jazz have to do with me remaining an Autobot despite my peers' change of spark?"

"They didn't have someone to painstakingly teach them how to look past the battle simulator and logic results and attempt to comprehend other factors. You did. You learned how to see past the surface and the easy answers given to you by that equipment. As corny as this will sound, I think that's what saved you."

"You hypothesis that Jazz undid vorns of damage caused by a seemingly-small decision that my creators made by simply being there," Prowl said skeptically. "Ratchet, I may have learned how to see past my logic center, as you put it, but that seems pretty far-fetched."

Exasperated at his failed attempt to reach Prowl, Ratchet threw his hands up in the air as all of his previous anger returned. "Oh dear Primus! Trying to get through to you is worse than trying to explain to Ironhide why he should stop being so ready to sacrifice himself for the cause! Fine, I give up on trying to help you out. With a sparklinghood like yours there's probably no way I can get you to fully understand what I'm trying to say, or even why a program like the one you created wasn't a good idea."

"My program was fine with only a few minor flaws. The 'critical' flaw was more of an operator one."

"Oh, it seems the self-appointed know-it-all tactician needs a lesson in why he shouldn't try to play doctor." Ratchet snorted. "Let's see; do I want to lecture or give this little lesson in the form of a pop quiz. Hmm… well, I think a pop quiz fits best for the know-it-all. Let's start out with an easy one – question number one: do you remember what the symptoms of your crash were?"

Prowl gave Ratchet a dirty look back. "Yes I do, but I'm not playing your game."

"I'm sorry, but the correct answer was burning, some form of emotional distress, your senses shortening out, and a whole other heap of crash symptoms," Ratchet said with a feigned apologetic look, as if he was a game-show host. "Question number two: What caused these symptoms? The answer I'm looking for is not 'crash,' by the way."

"I suppose you'll say it was my program," Prowl blankly replied.

"Bingo, but I was looking for a more in-depth answer. Any more answers? Hmm? No? Well, I'll tell you then. You see, from what I gather, Sideswipe went a tad too far and said some painful things. Actually, based on the way Jazz was seething, I'd say some very hurtful things, and more than once. With your systems already stressed and all kinds of emotional responses generating from the stupid twin's craptastic approach to solving his problems, along with less energon than you should've been functioning on, your little house of cards came falling down. Actually, in your case, it's more like they came crashing down onto a pile of burning hot, jagged rocks and any survivors were picked off by vicious birds."

"Thank you, Ratchet, for that wonderful comparison. I'll think about it while I'm – " Prowl tried to move the conversation into another direction, like one that would get him closer to the door, but to no avail.

"Who said I was done? Clearly it must be that stupid little voice in your head that thought you know the ins-and-outs of screwing with your own systems. Now, _as I was saying_, the strain on your systems along with the low energon levels and the mountain of emotional feed Sideswipe was creating, your little program kicked it into overdrive, only to succeed in complete failure. The failure, might I add, resulted in _burning_ half of the circuits. Undoubtedly you probably were feeling some emotions towards the end, even if they were weak. Then again maybe not; you only fried half of that system. But I really don't care about what you were thinking in those last moments; I'm more concerned about your sheer stupidity and what kind of delusional thoughts you have that got you to that point."

"Ratchet, you are beginning to infringe on the ethical codes and – "

"And what, Prowl? Should consider stop being mean and be a nice little medic? Well I did that earlier and then you nearly killed yourself because I didn't want to push you. So the way I see – _medically speaking _– you can't be fully functioning with that logic center if you actually thought that program was any good." Suddenly Ratchet stopped. Prowl looked into Ratchet's face and could see him chewing on something he just said. A slow, malicious smile crept along Ratchet's face before he spoke up. "I think I'm done ranting for now."

Prowl's optics almost cut out from the shock at Ratchet's sudden announcement. His optics followed Ratchet as the medic reconnected Prowl's servos. "What are you doing?"

"Can't you guess Prowl? What do doctors do when they have a theory on what's wrong with their patient?" The evil smile on Ratchet's face only grew as he finished his final tasks needed to release Prowl.

"They run tests?"

"Yes we do. I'm thinking about one type of test in particular – the trial one." Ratchet worked for a few more breems, practically humming to himself for whatever scheme he'd concocted. Prowl was afraid to ask so he waited in silence until Ratchet announce he was done with Prowl's immediate repairs.

"What? How can you be done? Aren't you going to turn on my logic center and battle simulator as well?" Prowl demanded.

"Pit no. I gave you some extra good will when I felt sorry for you, and since you didn't deserve I'm gonna give some extra bad will to balance out the forces of nature. Now leave and stay away for an orn or two because I'm not turning it on and I'm not clearing you for any duty. It's part of my trial to see if there's something wrong with your logic center."

Prowl glared vehemently into Ratchet's evil and joyance face. "You cannot do this. As your superior, I'm giving you a direct order to configure your superior officer back so I'm fully operational."

Ratchet shook his head. "As CMO, this medical concern I have regarding your near accidental suicide trumps your command. You can bet Prime will back me up on this. That is, if you're willing to let the cat out of the bag and tell him." Ratchet's moment of almost pure bliss could not be tainted in the least bit by Prowl's evil glare. "No go play outside for a while and you can come back in when dear old Ratchet calls you in," Ratchet dismissed Prowl in a motherly tone, as if he were talking to a sparkling.

Prowl tried to protest but a bellowed "Scram!" from Ratchet had him out the door faster than he'd ever left medbay.

-.-

Slowly Prowl walked back to his quarters, careful to avoid areas of high traffic. At first he considered heading to his office and gathering a few things, but the possibility of seeing the others was unappealing. He had also contemplated going to the room in the lower decks like before, but Prowl was far more tired than he expected. There wasn't anywhere to rest in that room and right now Prowl could only focus on the lure of a berth. The seductive image of resting peacefully pulled Prowl in the direction of his quarters.

However, Prowl found his desire for peace disrupted as his optics laid upon none other than Sideswipe. His currently least-favorite Autobot was mysteriously bouncing a small rubber ball against the door to the red mech's quarters.

The acutely-aware warrior heard Prowl's faint footsteps and turned to see Prowl standing roughly 15 meters away. They stared at each other in silence as the ball bounced one more time before the Sideswipe caught it.

The awkward silence dragged on until Prowl finally ceded to his newest curiosity. "Why are you bouncing a ball against your own door from the hallway?"

"Well, uh, Sunstreaker managed to lock me out. I figure if I do this enough, he'll either let me in to end the noise or come out here to stop me."

"And if he chooses the second option?"

"Oh I've got a plan for that," Sideswipe replied with a wolfish grin.

Prowl couldn't come up with a response to that and the awkward silence returned once more. The tired tactician wasn't in the mood to deal with what Sideswipe earlier actions, nor did he care which twin would end up in medbay. Prowl resumed walking to his quarters and passed the fidgeting warrior mech without acknowledging him.

Once Prowl had passed the troublesome mech by a few meters Sideswipe spoke up. "I'm sorry."

Prowl abruptly halted before turning back. "You can't expect that to be good enough."

"Of course not… it's just I'm not sure what to do or say. I never pictured myself apologizing to an officer. Not sincerely anyways. I feel kinda dirty now, actually." Sideswipe's face twisted as if he detected a foul stench.

"Neither had I envisioned an honest apology coming from you."

"Yeah, well, it's not in my nature to give in to anything. I mean come on – I was sitting here just a moment ago playing 'poke the psycho bear.'" To prove his point, Sideswipe bounced the ball against the door again and both mechs thought they heard a low growl come from within the room.

Prowl stared at the door, debating whether or not he should interfere, least they be down one or two key soldiers and have yet another Decepticon attack. The internal debate didn't last long as Prowl reminded himself he wasn't allowed to resume work yet and decided to leave their fates in their own hands.

Still, the expression on the red mech's face coupled with his fidgeting, Prowl could tell his presence was still very much a problem for the relatively-young mech. "I hope you aren't expecting me to accept your apology, at least not right now."

"What? No, of course not. I expect way more brimstone, fire, and misery to come my way before that. Jazz promised that much."

Prowl was mildly surprised. "When did Jazz promise that?"

"A couple of joors ago now, I think. I'm trying to avoid places where he might see me because he keeps giving me this creepy evil smile. He's pretty pissed off about what I did so he's taking his time on developing a punishment on this. Probably didn't help that I told him he only had 10 joors from the time the act was committed to officially deliver the punishment either." The mech gave a weak chuckle.

"I guess one of the many things Jazz doesn't like is being told how to punish a mech by the mech he's punishing. I suspect Ironhide, Prime, and the other officers would feel the same." Prowl commented as he slightly shook his head.

"Well yeah. Jazz certainly doesn't like it, almost as much as he doesn't like what I said. I think between those two things he's taking this very personal." Sideswipe hesitated before deciding to just get it over with. The unusual and rare burden of guilt bothered him. "I guess sometimes I take the things between you and me a tad too personal. You're very good at your job and when we're off the field I find that really annoying. Sometimes it's borderline maddening."

"I'm sorry that my intent to successfully run an army both on and off the battlefield has hindered your 'creative' ways to have fun or express yourself," Prowl responded deadpan. "That, by the way, Sideswipe, was not a sincere apology."

"Oh my Primus, you know what, Prowl? I – no, I'm not going there right now." Sideswipe took a deep breathe for a moment before trying again. "I don't like you."

"Thank you. The feeling is mutual."

"I'm not done yet." Sideswipe snapped. "Can you be quiet for just an astrosecond? Geez, I'm having trouble trying to figure how to word this and it would be _nice _to be interrupted by our usual shots at each other."

Prowl raised an optic ridge but chose to remain silent. His curiosity over what the red warrior was struggling with outweighed his urge to remind Sideswipe how to talk to an officer.

After a half a breem, Sideswipe exhaled before trying once more. "I respect you. I respect you enough that I never actually want to see you seriously harmed. I hate the idea I couldn't help you when you needed it on the battlefield and I hate that I pushed things too far. Its one thing to see you twitch when I push your buttons, but it's another when you crash – especially like that. Almost single-handedly taking out our SIC over an attempted prank with fireworks and liquid drugs doesn't feel right." At his superior's surprised look Sideswipe paused to clarify. "An angry Jazz is a vengeful Jazz. He pretty much went out of his way to uncover what I was doing earlier and completely ruined it for me. I'm not admitting to anything you can't find in the report he's building.

"Anyway, you've busted me so many times both here and before Earth that I kinda felt like I knew you. It took me a while, but eventually I could tell what was valuable to you and what wasn't based on what kind of pain you dished back. The things you really kicked someone's aft about seemed especially high when they screwed up the order around your base or cramped your stats. I figured you thought of us as tools or resources for you to use in your plans, and when you were done we were supposed to sit quietly on the side until the next command. I don't sit quietly and I'm tired of being thought of as a simpleton or a tool for the battlefields. Our previous commanders pretty much said that to Sunstreaker and me." Sideswipe glared off to the side, mentally picturing his former commander in all of his smug glory. He pushed the image aside to continue on.

"I got tired of sitting around when Earth's crappy weather being extra crappy. Almost every 'bot pretty much went insane from the lack of activity. Like, only a handful of mechs seemed okay with the situation; you most of all. I figured it was because you're too rigid to know what it felt like to lose all your stress outlets, and that you didn't care about our suffering so long as order was maintained. I dunno… it just didn't seem fair."

Prowl carefully watched Sideswipe as the mech spoke. He was careful to listen to Sideswipe and not cut him off or be distracted by the grossly inaccurate opinion Sideswipe had of him.

"After you were rushed into medbay for your latest crash, Jazz and I had a brief talk. He reminded me that while I know the signs thatyou care, I can't tell _why_ and that maybe I shouldn't try guessing. Mechs tend to do things when they think they know the 'whys' or 'whats' and that maybe I should just accept it as is, whatever 'it' is."

Finally finished with his small speech, the red mech visibly relaxed a little. While there was nothing in there that was definitively an apology, Prowl did know that particular 'what' about Sideswipe. That explanatory-speech was the closest thing to an apology that Prowl had ever heard from a mech who never did sincerely apologize, at least not in public. Sideswipe was a mech of actions and not words, after all. The action of trying to apologize and his admittance at the end said more than any "I'm sorry" Sideswipe could have created.

Still, Prowl couldn't resist the first response that leaped to mind. It was Sideswipe, after all. "Thank you for your honesty, Sideswipe. Would you like a hug?"

"I dunno, can you bend that much without breaking the drive shaft up your aft?" Between the comment and the smirk on Sideswipe's face, it was clear to Prowl that the moment was over and Sideswipe would probably behave like he did before. Or maybe not. Only time would tell how sincerely Sideswipe took his own words.

"I do have one question for you, Sideswipe. What were you planning to do with the liquid medical supplies?"

The grin on Sideswipe's face bloomed from his unabashed pride. "I was curious if it was true about getting a contact-high from some of those liquid compounds, especially when the compounds are converted into vapor form. Everyone was supposed to come out to look at the unexpected fireworks, and well… just read the report sometime. It would've been awesome."

Prowl turned and silently chuckled as he walked away. Even as he disappeared down the hall he could hear Sideswipe resuming his dangerously-stupid game.

* * *

If the image of Sideswipe in a pink dress seems familiar, I may know why ;) Evil Ratchet (my beta reader) drew that some time ago.


	17. Ch 10, part 1

Upon entering his quarters, Prowl waited until the door was completely closed before relaxing. He lingered in the doorway, basking in the tranquil environment that only his private quarters could offer. Through careful maneuvering he'd managed to make it to his quarters without further incident. Now he could enjoy that soothing recharge he'd been thinking about since medbay.

"So you didn't kill him. I was wondering what would happen."

Alarmed by the unknown intruder in his quarters, Prowl whirled around to find Jazz standing in the corner closest to his berth. "What are you doing here?" demanded Prowl, his sharp tone belying his exhaustion. He wasn't in the mood for one of Jazz's games.

"I'm waiting for Blaster so we can go clubbing," Jazz replied in a sardonic voice. "I wanted to talk to you and I figured this was the only place you'd come where Ratchet, Prime, Sideswipe, or Megatron couldn't interrupt us."

"You do recall that the last time you decided to wait for me by hiding in my quarters, we_ were_ interrupted by Megatron? Now that I think it, I'm surprised I wasn't tackled this time." Prowl gave Jazz a pointed look.

"Megatron's been beat, and so have you. Ratchet would strangle me if I did much more than cause your pistons to pump faster. Judging by how you practically jumped just now, I'm figuring that me saying hi in your own quarters was enough to achieve those kind of results."

"Well you succeeded, so you can leave now."

"You're wrong if you think that was all I'm after." Almost predatorily, Jazz stepped out of the corner and closer to Prowl, an intense look emitting from his visor.

Instinctively Prowl took a step back and almost collided with the door as he fought to suppress the nervous feeling that Jazz's actions were creating. "How did you know I was even out of medbay? I didn't notify you, Ratchet hadn't informed you by the time I left, and the only mech I saw was Sideswipe. If Ratchet had told you about my departure after I left then you shouldn't have been able to finish whatever you were doing and arrive here before me."

"Well you're right about one thing – Ratchet didn't hail me. _I _hailed him – and for the hundredth time, I swear. After he was able to stabilize your systems, he wasn't interested in putting up with me anymore, so he had Wheeljack stand guard with some freaky-looking toy. About three breems ago I hailed him again to ask if you were finally free and he said that you were, but I was to leave you alone. Apparently you had some suffering to do on your own?" Jazz paraphrased Ratchet's earlier comment, completely confused by the medic's choice in words.

At Prowl's faint doorwing twitch, a sign of annoyance among Praxians, Jazz decided to continue on without asking for an explanation. There would be time for that later. "I _was_ on my way to spread some of my disappointment onto Sideswipe, but I saw the two of you talking. I figured I'd let you two hash it out so I could beat you here."

"I see. Sideswipe mentioned that you were going out of your way to make his life miserable."

"Yeah, well I had to do something during the couple of joors between being kicked out and when I finally found out you were released." The intensity in Jazz's expression softened somewhat as he thought back to that moment of relief when Ratchet kicked him out, ending the torturous joors of not knowing if his close friend was dying.

"I waited outside of medbay while you were being operated on. I didn't know what had happened to you, let alone had a clue what the outcome would be. After Ratchet told me that you were fine I asked if he could tell me what happened, but he refused. I figure whatever happened was more than a typical crash or even a system failure. It's not like Ratchet to pull doctor-patient confidentiality for every bump, scratch, and dent."

"No, I suppose not." The tired SIC resisted sighing. It made sense that Jazz would realize the severity of an issue if Ratchet would actually refuse to rant to others about it. Usually Ratchet used injured mechs as a warning to others. "I'm sorry for the trouble it caused you. Perhaps later I will elaborate some, if you are still concerned by then."

"No, I won't be concerned later. Mainly because I've run out of patience and I'm not going to wait until later to find out." The intensity in Jazz's voice returned, leaving no doubt that the strong-willed mech would not leave the issue alone. His posture said just as much.

"Lately it seems like waiting has given me nothing but trouble and missed opportunities, and I'm tired of the chase," the annoyed Porsche stated. "I waited before the attack only to be interrupted by said Decepticon attack. I blew off talking about the attack when we were in medbay together, and then I didn't see you again for several orns – where we were interrupted by Sideswipe and you crashed. As far as I'm concerned, there is no later; there's only now."

Still feeling tired, Jazz's confrontational words and demeanor only spurred an angry response from Prowl. "You may think that demanding to speak to me without considering my opinion would cause the effect you want, but I am too worn out to put up with this. Leave or I will have security escort you out."

"Slag security and slag your nap!" snapped the short-tempered Jazz, taking Prowl by surprise. Taking a few more steps forward to close most of the gap between the two, Jazz glared into Prowl's optics. "You have no idea what was running through my head when we alone in your office and you were bleeding on the floor with almost no response! Nor do you have any concept of what kind of ideas were running through my head when you were in medbay!

"Do you know what the end result of the last time I saw something like that happen was? An officer I knew once keeled over like you did and he _died. _Some of the other officers claimed that his deactivation was caused by a strained processor, and depending on how you look at it, they're right. Because of all the strain he put his processor through it wasn't able to register a nasty Decepticon virus before it stopped his energon pump. I'm not gonna let this go, no matter how unhappy you are about it because I don't ever want to go through that again." Jazz's visor flared up as a sign of his determination.

Unaware about Jazz's past experience, Prowl immediately felt guilty and apologized for the panic he put his friend through. "I'm sorry, I had no idea that you went through something like that before with an unfortunate end."

"I know you didn't. I didn't tell you because I figured you'd blow it off, telling me that you had precautions installed or whatever. Did you ever wonder why I was so damn adamant about you taking all those breaks? It wasn't just because I wanted to spend time with you, but because I could see you heading down that same path." Jazz closed the remaining gap between them and reached out to grasp Prowl's arm, giving him a firm but friendly squeeze. "Even if the Decepticons never get their hands on the materials needed to create another virus like that one, there's plenty of other ways to be deactivated – more if you aren't operating at your best."

Prowl looked down at Jazz's hand before glancing back at the saboteur's frown, the kindness in his friend's touch almost undermined the intensity burning from Jazz's visor. Prowl spoke as the memory was brought up from the familiar sight. "It seems like we're beginning to head down the same path again, the one from before Megatron's attack. You held onto my arm while confronting me on a matter that bothered you. It's strange to think that wasn't too long ago, with everything that's happened. It seems like a lifetime ago, but it was hardly two Earth months."

"I remember," murmured Jazz. "We were cut off after I asked you if you didn't really trust me enough to talk about what was bothering you. You said that you had been open with me, but I've thought about that moment since then. Maybe you consider our conversation to be open, but you've been so closed off for such a long time that I think you don't quite know what being open or vulnerable really is anymore. Telling me about the orns that Sideswipe makes you want to put his head through a wall or when you find it difficult to be around an exceptionally-needy Bluestreak may be something you consider vulnerable because you don't want anyone else to hear it, but that's not being vulnerable.

"Being vulnerable means telling someone about your fears and dreams. It also means talking things through to deal with pain no matter how much crap you've got. Prowl, I want you to talk to me. You haven't talked to anyone about all the stuff that's happened to you in these past few decaorns and it has to be eating you up inside."

Carefully Prowl looked into Jazz's glowing visor as he considered his once-estranged friend's words. There was a lot on his mind about what had happened over the past several decaorns and sometimes he felt like his life was being drained away. The pain hadn't stopped despite his best efforts and Prowl was at a loss how to handle even the most rudimentary items for him, including that report his logic center generated after the attack. That report still weighed heavily on his mind because it was a reminder that he might falter should he let anyone past his guard, especially some like Jazz, who had an effect on him. His personal sense of security relied very heavily on him minimizing unnecessary situations, like non-work-related interaction.

"I'll be fine, Jazz. As the saying goes, time heals all wounds." Prowl casually responded as he pulled away and walked towards his simple living room.

"You and I both know that saying is crap." Despite Prowl's detached demeanor, Jazz followed the tactician until the stoic mech sat down in one of his soft chairs. Jazz moved around the short, plain metallic table in favor of sitting on the arm of the chair beside the Datsun. Prowl could not ignore him at this proximity. "Being in a war as long as we have, we've seen mechs with wounds on top of the scar tissue of other wounds. I bet you know a great example or two proving that from your own past," Jazz pointed out as he nudged Prowl's leg with his ped.

Ignoring the annoyed expression on Prowl's face, Jazz prepared himself to say what was on his mind, knowing that Prowl would disagree and even resist. "Prowl, you need to let someone in so that maybe your own scar tissue will stop growing. I want you to be able to talk to me about whatever, whenever. And not just about the little stuff but the stuff that makes you want to rip out your own chevron. Keeping everything inside does put a strain on you even if you don't believe it because you feel fine. The perpetually sick forget what it feels like to be healthy, and you're no different. You need to take time out and relax if you want a chance in the world to undo all the damage from the crap you've been through. I would never tell the other troops what's bothering you and you know that. It's why you talked to me in the past."

Prowl listened carefully to Jazz's request that Prowl talk about his problems instead of hide them. However, rather than feeling happy at the offer as the Third-in-Command was probably hoping for, Prowl felt more like distancing himself from the saboteur. Unfortunately for him, Prowl knew that Jazz wouldn't easily settle for anything less than what he wanted. "Jazz, this isn't something where I can suddenly be a different mech and open up to you like Bluestreak can."

"I wasn't expecting that much, Prowl. I'm sure you don't want to talk about what's happened over the past few orns, but maybe you could tell me more about that Decepticon we met? He seemed to know you." Jazz knew that asking a direct question about what had happened to Prowl would push the stubborn mech away. Undoubtedly, Prowl would tell Jazz the least-personal things about that Decepticon, but Jazz could work with that.

Thinking back to those orns when he knew Conex – or ConAir, as he had referred to himself as – Prowl took a few moments to ponder what he should tell Jazz. Did Jazz even remember the name of the mech he'd mentioned in the Praxian park back when they were practically just sparklings? After some length of time Prowl finally spoke. "Do you remember that orn when you found me in the park back in Praxus? Do you recall the conversation we had?"

"Yeah, a mech was bothering you because he didn't like who you. He wanted you to change. I think he was pretty mean about it too." Jazz fumbled a bit while he searched through his memory for that very old conversation.

"Did I ever tell you his name?"

"Uh, no?" Jazz tried keeping the uncertainty out of his voice. No name came to mind, but there would undoubtedly be holes in his memory of a very old conversation.

"Well that was him – or at least that Decepticon we met was sparked from him."

Jazz's optics widened behind his visor. "Wait, I think you did tell me his name. Borex? Corex? No, umm… Conex! I remember now. That was him in the cavern? What happened? It never sounded as if things ended bad enough to put your life in danger, but maybe I missed something?" Worried that he might have overlooked something critical, Jazz wanted to reach over and give Prowl's hand a squeeze but he refrained. He knew he was already pushing Prowl to his limits of personal interaction, and physical contact might make Prowl uncomfortable.

"No, you didn't miss anything, Jazz. Apparently he was involved in a secret program, which was actually controlled by Decepticons, and it led to his insanity. What you saw there was a violent magnification of what it was really like so long ago."

"Oh." After Jazz realized that was all Prowl planned to say about the matter, he decided to be more direct. "What was it like, running into him again, especially after he changed so much?"

"It was painful." Although Prowl intended to leave it at his cavalier comment, he looked into his companion's optics and found them somehow radiating concern beneath that visor. It wasn't a reaction he was used to and it left Prowl feeling uneasy. "It was very painful, both during and after the attack." Prowl added, his admission barely audible. He turned his face away as his discomfort rose.

When Prowl spoke the first time Jazz nearly snapped back at the mech for giving him an insulting answer, but when his friend spoke again Jazz realized that Prowl meant more than the physical trauma. "What did he say to you?"

'_He mocked my life, reminding me that I was weak and how I never had anyone to depend on, leaving me alone most of my life._' Prowl silently answered. Despite knowing the answer to Jazz's question, Prowl just could bring himself to say it out load completely. "He behaved almost possessively while displaying a lot of aggression when it came to his questions regarding my opinions on mechs like him."

"Was he always possessive?"

"Not to the extreme you saw, but yes."

"Why did you put up with that?"

"Jazz…" Prowl began as the anxiety from before returned. "I was being honest before when I said I felt secure around you, but there are some things that I don't want to revisit."

"Yeah, and I told you that I wasn't going to go away regardless how difficult things get. I won't let you suffer through this alone. If you never deal with what's bothering you, then you'll never make it right. Time doesn't always heal wounds or make the memories hurt any less." Jazz wanted Prowl to know how sincere he was but the only idea his processor came up with was to slide into Prowl's chair and hold him. Although his spark fluttered at the idea, Jazz wasn't sure what he wanted with Prowl, at least not explicitly. Instead, he decided to indulge himself by taking Prowl's hand and giving it a loose squeeze.

"Why do you care so much?" No one had ever pushed Prowl this hard to be allowed into his inner-most thoughts, not even his own family.

"Because I care about you." Jazz set Prowl's hand back down and his fingers brushed lightly past Prowl's palm, causing the sensors in his hand to almost resonate. "I don't want to see you hurting and I know that's what's happening. I'm not going away because I want to help you find some peace, whatever it may be. I told you I would be your friend forever back in the park, and I meant it. I don't take friendship lightly.

"Prowl, if you think I'll judge you because of something you're ashamed or angry about, you're wrong. During the time that I've known you, I've learned that one of the greatest mistakes is to judge. You have far too many layers to you – way more layers than most of the mechs here! Only an idiot would be quick to form an opinion. So please tell me." Jazz pleaded, trying to be somewhat open himself so that Prowl might follow suit.

His attempt to encourage Prowl into talking more openly about something unpleasant succeeded as the distressed tactician considered Jazz's words. With great difficulty, Prowl answered Jazz's question about his past life. "I was alone during those orns, before the academy. I didn't make many friends and my family had expectations of me that I found… frustrating. I didn't know what to do about them so I pushed others away to keep from slipping up. Conex was the first mech who appeared to have a genuine interest in me. It was the first time I ever did anything that you might describe as 'fun.'" A faint smile appeared on Prowl's face as the memories of the early times in that relationship flashed by. During his struggles to remake his identity after they moved, Prowl had found what he thought was acceptance in Conex's companionship.

"But as time went on, he started to act differently. He started to treat me differently. He said things that hurt, and sometimes did things that hurt as well. I would ask him to stop and he would after apologizing. We spent a lot of time together, either alone or with his friends. Despite having its rough patches, it was the first time that I felt as if I fit somewhere, as if I had a place.

"But as time went on, he didn't stop the callous remarks, no matter what I said. I tried doing things that would bring back the mech I fell for, but I wasn't successful. We stopped seeing each other after a particularly bad fight. Later I found out that I had lost all my friends by breaking up with him because everyone I had befriended preferred spending time with him. He could be charismatic and spontaneous, whereas I could not. I was alone again after all of my friends sided with him. Some of them even painted me out as a crazy mech when they told others about what had happened. All of my friendships, my identity, even the things I took pleasure in were shattered and I'd realized how foolish I'd been."

Taken back by Prowl's honesty about something so painful, Jazz's fury erupted and burned his circuits. Ideas poured into Jazz's mind of what he should've done to make that Decepticon suffer. However, Jazz managed to squash his fury for the sake of the mech before him. "Primus, Prowl, I'm so sorry." Pressed by an urge to show Prowl companionship, Jazz leaned forward and wrapped his hands tightly around Prowl's. "You weren't foolish; you were young and you were already hurting by the time you met the first mech that genuinely seemed to care for you. Why didn't you tell me? If I had known…"

"You wouldn't have. The majority of this happened when you returned to Polyhex to prepare for the academy. Conex had been the only mech I confided in before our careers and he threw it all back in my face." Prowl pulled away from Jazz, remembering the sting of the betrayal from the first mech he'd ever trusted.

Determined to prove to Prowl that he could be trusted, Jazz slid off his chair and into the arm of Prowl's chair as he reached for Prowl. "Hey, I will never do that." Gently placing his hand on the side of Prowl's face, Jazz tugged it back towards his direction. "I'll never tell another soul and I won't ever use it against you. I could never forgive myself if I caused the pain in your optics."

The tension in Prowl's doorwings and shoulder struts immediately disintegrated upon hearing Jazz's assuring words. Without the tension building in his frame, Prowl was suddenly very aware of Jazz's proximity as well as his own tiredness. Weary from his earlier crash and the stress of saying aloud what he never could before, Prowl leaned forward and rested his helm against Jazz's. Between the contact and Jazz's light caress on his hand, along with the Porsche's support, Prowl's strained mind felt more at peace than it had in a long time.

Meanwhile, having been caught off guard by the unexpected contact from Prowl, Jazz's spark was fluttering almost uncontrollably. Both stayed still as they silently enjoyed the closeness of each other. As Jazz squeezed Prowl's hand a familiar smell drifted into his olfactory. "What's that scent?" he asked softly.

"What?" Prowl asked as he tried to keep from falling asleep.

"I can smell something really faint coming from your armor. It smells like the park from that orn?" Jazz tried figuring out what that scent was from, remembering how that same question from when he held Prowl after the attack had bothered him, but no ideas came to him.

"Oh that. It's the smell of the crystal plants from Praxus, among a few other plants native to my home city. Its part of the polish I was given just prior to the city's destruction, so I've diluted it with standard military polish to preserve what little I have."

"Oh that's why I thought it was familiar. Was it pretty standard polish in Praxus?"

"Why?"

"I remember the smell, I just don't remember where. I know I've smelled it several times after Praxus was destroyed." Jazz knew he had come across it before. Belatedly, he realized he should have put more thought into his query as Prowl's head abruptly pulled away, his optics glowing oddly.

"What are you talking about? You and I have never been physically close long enough for you to be aware of it, aside from our recent time on Earth. The only way you could have smelled it was if you were around someone whom my carrier gave it to, and she stopped doing that well before the destruction of Praxus. In fact, the only reason I have what I do now was because she made it one more time when I was promoted to SIC. Even Bluestreak and Smokescreen don't have any left. It was a very unique blend and it had been her family's secret mixture and neither my brothers nor I ever figured out how to make it. She was deactivated before she could teach us."

"Huh. Uh, maybe she gave it to some one else? Its not I haven't met or worked with a lot of others mechs."

"True, but she almost never left Praxus, so it would have to be a Praxian. Plus, for you to actually still remember it, you would've known the mech and probably spent quite a bit of time around him." As Prowl pointed out the connection between the polish and Jazz's memory his optics narrowed.

"In fact, I think she just about stopped making it all together when we moved while I was still a sparkling. She only made it afterwards when one of her sparklings went to the academy and then when we received promotions. You would have to have met a surviving Praxian mech or femme that my carrier knew prior to my first major upgrade. I don't need my logic center's assistance to know that statistically there's very few Praxians who would even have it in their possession after the destruction of Praxus, and no one can recreate it since the necessary ingredients were virtually all destroyed. In fact, given how hard it was to make, it would have to be very important to someone to manage to keep it around for longer than a vorn."

'_Oh, shit._' Jazz cursed himself as the memories came to him from when he and Blacksmoke were pinned practically right on top of each other in a collapsed building for almost an orn. How was he to explain that his memories of the scent came from being once trapped with Prowl's sparker? Especially since their predicament had been caused by one of Prowl's plans falling apart, nearly resulting in their permanent deactivations? "Uh well, I worked with a few Praxians after the city's destruction. Perhaps your creator gave it to a special friend as a gift and they've recreated enough batches before Praxus was destroyed to make it last?"

"I doubt it. After one of her friends tried to do exactly what you just said she stopped giving it out as a gift to anyone outside of the family. So like I said before – there is statically onlya few mechs or femmes that could've even had it to begin with, and given how few of the Praxians survived our city's destruction, there isn't enough mechs for you to have been frequently around but not longer remember. In fact, the possibilities are even less because at least half of my carrier's coworkers were killed in an attack just prior to the war and prior to our move. Statistically, the odds are overwhelmingly small and I can only think of maybe three mechs that might have known her and be out of the city when it was destroyed. Who had it, Jazz?" Prowl demanded. When the empty expression on Jazz's face didn't change, Prowl's suspicion turned to anger and his doorwings flared back and his optics furthered narrowed. "I'm not kidding. I want to know _who _had that polish and I want you to tell me now."

* * *

If you don't recall, there was an attack on the Charger's work place when she took Prowl to work, causing a ton of Cybertronians to die and practically level the building.


	18. Ch 10, part 2

Unable to hide it any longer, Jazz gave Prowl what he demanded despite the knot forming in his stomach. "The mech's name was Blacksmoke…" Cringing, Jazz fought off the desire to look away from Prowl. This was not how he wanted to break the news to Prowl.

"How did you know that mech?" The sharpness in Prowl's voice nearly sliced the surrounding air in half as he questioned his 'friend'. Based on Jazz's hesitance and expression, Prowl knew that Jazz knew that name had meaning to Prowl. If keeping this from him wasn't part of Jazz's idea of betrayal, then how could Prowl trust the mech before him to keep his secrets?

"He was one of our most experienced Ops mech and there were times I needed to rely on someone with that much knowledge, particularly during operations in the older parts of Cybertron."

"I see. Where is he now?" Although he remained still as a statue, Prowl was nearly livid. To know that Blacksmoke had been underneath Jazz's watch this entire time was infuriating, to say the least.

"Buried in the Praxian cemetery," Jazz reluctantly answered, regretting how his oversight had completely ruined everything good that happened. Knowing that Prowl had a tendency to lash inward when he received bad news, Jazz carefully watched Prowl's face for any clues on how the mech was handling the news.

Taken by surprise at the Jazz's reply as to his creator's whereabouts, Prowl stared at Jazz in disbelief. Unable to remain still any longer, Prowl pushed himself out of the chair as he spoke. "Well then, good riddance, save for the loss of the benefits of an 'experienced mech.'"

"He died in a Decepticon attack on the old temple in Iacon," Jazz quickly interjected before Prowl could walk away.

Prowl stopped in mid step, immediately catching the implication of Jazz's words. "How?"

"By taking a blow from Starscream meant for his offline superior." Anxiously, Jazz waited as he watched Prowl's back for any visible response. The tactician's doorwings began to quiver as his shoulder's tensed up. However, despite these signs, Prowl still hadn't reacted. Knowing the consequences of his actions, Jazz decided to not hold back from the mech any longer. Prowl had to deal with the emotions, whether he wanted to or not. "His last words were about his sparkling and how happy he was that he could at least do one thing right for him, and that his sparkling had grown to become a good mech."

Jazz's words brought forth an onslaught of emotions that Prowl hadn't expected and his knees buckled as the shock, grief, confusion, and pain came crashing into him full force. Jazz leaped forward and managed to catch Prowl before he hit the table, pulling the limp mech back to the chair so that he could hold him in a loose embrace.

"Why didn't you tell me about that?" Prowl cried out, completely bewildered at the prospect that the object he channeled most of his anger at was no longer activated. Not only that, but Blacksmoke's last act and words were the complete opposite of what Prowl had held against his sparker. After his graduation from the academy he had made a point to never search for Blacksmoke, deciding that Blacksmoke's existence should be no more meaningful to him as his was to his sparker. Now, he was learning that Blacksmoke's very existence was the reason he still functioned, and that Blacksmoke may have been watching him from afar. Perhaps even cared for him.

"I pretty much just found out. I was waiting for the right time to tell you." Jazz tried to soothe the upset mech but Prowl fought to get out of Jazz's embrace.

Instinctively Prowl tried to analyze the news and push himself away to do so, only to realize that he didn't have support once he succeeded. Prowl caught the corner of the short table and held tried to keep upright but his arms felt weak. Without his logic center to analyze everything, Prowl felt completely lost and alone.

Suddenly he felt a warm presence wrap itself around him and pulled him gently back to the chair. Numbly, Prowl looked up and saw Jazz, who was gently holding him while quietly speaking reassuring words. They sat like that for several more breems until Jazz's comfort had managed to coax Prowl into talking.

"I don't know why, but I find it difficult to believe that he's deactivated. I never cared for him but somehow I'm still upset to know he's no longer functional. Especially like that. He never did anything kind while he was a part of my life and then he saves my life by sacrificing his? And while he lays there dying, he says that he's proud of me and he's happy that he could save me? It's just not logical," Prowl muttered, vaguely aware that he was speaking aloud. Between the pain he never expected from Blacksmoke's death, the return of Conex, and the trouble he'd been enduring back at the _Ark_, Prowl felt like shutting down.

Despite Jazz's loss for words to help Prowl, the saboteur badly wanted to help his friend. He knew the tactician's suffering was made worse by the fact that he would never have any closure with Blacksmoke. Perhaps Jazz could help him have some closure if Prowl was willing to talk about it some more. "What was he like when you knew him?"

"He was tough because he wanted to mold me into the perfect Enforcer. He was very rigid and often angry. Usually I disappointed him because I did not show much potential to be Enforcer."

Confused by the response, Jazz asked for Prowl to elaborate. "I thought the academy accepted your enrollment as an Enforcer. Wouldn't that mean you did have potential?"

"I studied rigorously before the academy and developed that potential. However, all of that took place after Blacksmoke left," Prowl clarified.

"So you did what he wanted even without him there?" Jazz wondered about that time when they were both attending the academy. There was so much he didn't know about Prowl back then and it wasn't until now that he realized how much he should've tried learning about. Although they attended the academy together, they rarely saw each other since special operations did not train with tacticians. Neither did they do a lot of work with Enforcers.

"Prowl, I've always wondered why you changed your field of expertise to tactical. Why did you apply to be an Enforcer if your reason to be an Enforcer wasn't even around? During our short time together before the academy I could see that you had a talent for the more logistics stuff, so I always wondered why you made that first choice."

'_Not talent, an unfair – and so-called 'illegal' – advantage,_' Prowl silently corrected, remembering Ratchet's words. "I started out as an Enforcer because there were certain things I was looking for that I thought the Enforcer path would be the most logical pursuit. As time went on, however, I found out that I was wrong and my secondary studies seemed more fitting."

"Why wasn't the Enforcer path fitting?"

"It just wasn't." With a sigh, Prowl pulled out of Jazz's embrace and readjusted his position to sit more comfortably, slightly apart from Jazz.

"Come on, Prowl," Jazz could see that Prowl was mentally pulling away from him and tried to stop him. "Don't shut me out now. This is something that clearly still bothers you, or else you wouldn't have moved away."

'_Count on Jazz to know body language,_' Prowl privately groaned. What was he to say? How he'd had difficulty connecting to others and his awkwardness was only magnified when surrounded by his peers? The friction caused by his inability to fully comprehend his teammates' behaviors grew and he had been alienated even in group projects. The only time he found joy was during his logistics studies, which he usually did in solitude, and these differences eventually drove him to make the switch. In fact, by the time he'd finally met up with Jazz again, Jazz had joked that he hardly recognized him because Prowl had changed so much.

"I had very few friends and the Enforcer career requires a certain mindset and bonds that I was unable to comprehend. Eventually I switched to tactician because it felt more appropriate for my skills and a lack of interest in their idea of 'team building.'"

Jazz nodded. "Ah. Makes sense."

"Why is that? Does it make sense because I don't participate in off-duty activities around here?" Prowl felt almost defensive with Jazz's laid back acceptance of the explanation.

"No, I actually didn't even think of that. I don't think anyone seriously considered you a social mech when we were at the academy, Prowl. You weren't at the parties and even the geekier mechs said you were a loner."

"When did you talk to these 'geekier mechs' about me?"

With a slight frown, Jazz recalled the unusual situation where it had come up. "Do you remember the 'Geek Attack' on campus, as the warrior class called it? I do; I was at a party when the news broke and the warriors and some others were quick to make fun of it. I guess it was their way to keep a good party from being soured by the grisly story and high-grade induced panic. Anyway, I left the party to see if you were alright since no one knew the name of the victim, and I ran into several of your classmates. I asked where you were and one of them said you were around the science dormitories. Some other mech jumped in and said that you should be with the victim since you two were seeing each other exclusively. The first one said that it didn't matter since you were never serious anyways. Everyone was pretty much still panicking at that point, though, so I wouldn't reach too much into that if I were you."

"I see." Prowl frowned. '_Hypocrites. I wasn't the only one who preferred a logical approach_.' Despite shedding some light on a few things, Prowl did not want to talk about it. "I'm surprised you remember that event so well, given that the Decepticons have attacked our troops far worse. Regardless, its ancient history now and the mech survived, albeit with some memory loss."

"Well yeah it was pretty long ago, but it was the first time I ever worried about you."

"You remember something so old because of me? Even though we were distance friends when it happened?" Prowl was amazed by the genuine concern, which was something he didn't deserve.

"Of course I remember. It was a freaky story back then. It was the first time a student had been critically injured and the culprit was never found. My roommate was afraid to recharge after that! Don't you remember how freaked out everyone was?" Jazz asked incredulously.

"I remember," Prowl absently responded. Truth was that orn was seared into his mind forever, although he rarely thought about it. It had started out innocently enough with his partner pushing him into going to a social event; probably the one Jazz had been at. The mech had been pressuring Prowl into going and even tried pulling him out the door. The mech kept saying over and over, "Do you want to be the saddest mech here? Why don't you ever try to make friends? You never go out and hang with the others. What's wrong with you?" before concluding that he would do his 'duty' by making Prowl go no matter what. Prowl asked him to quit pulling and insulting him but he was ignored. Then the mech had tried tugging on Prowl's doorwing, except the mech hadn't realized how sensitive the appendages were. The next thing Prowl knew, the offending hand was lying crumpled on the floor in pieces and the mech's vocal unit was across the floor. He'd called security immediately and jammed the mech's polishing cloth into the wound to slow down the bleeding before making his escape.

Prowl hadn't deserved Jazz's concern, and he still didn't. The mech had survived, with minor permanent damage, but Prowl had never truly made it up to him or repented. Somehow his logic center had convinced him it wasn't relevant. '_That's wrong. Why did I think that?_' Prowl frowned as he pondered why on Cybertron that he would so willingly think along the terms.

"Now that we're loosely on the subject of you disappearing whenever I look for you, where have you been hiding these past few decaorns?" Jazz inquired.

"Around." A small mischievous smile fleeted across Prowl's face before his expression returned to its normal neutrality. He rather enjoyed his little secret and wouldn't give it up so easily.

"Ah come on, Prowl! Don't hold out on me." Jazz begged, his interest rapidly growing.

"I've told you plenty for now. Besides, I need to have something to myself to enjoy."

"Ah come on, Prowl," Jazz whined. "This is so wrong. You never go out or hang with the other troops, but you'll hide away at work for entertainment? That's so messed up!" Jazz teased, fully expecting Prowl's usual banter about how breaking an axel on another joy ride was hardly entertainment.

However, in light of the past the saboteur had unknowingly dredged up, Jazz's innocent tease only served to alarm Prowl as he caught the similarities between Jazz's words and the words his ill-fated lover spoke. Perhaps this was a bad idea. Even with his logic center out of commission, Prowl knew what it would tell him: that Jazz and that mech shared several important factors – factors that were the key in the unexpected attack. They were both social, outgoing mechs and they always tried to get Prowl to 'lighten up.' They even shared similar techniques. Prowl's logic center would be warning him right now that he was allowing a dangerous situation to unfold.

However, just like he had everything else on his mind, and Ratchet's earlier words weren't an exception. Yes, his logic center would be telling him that Jazz was a liability, but in absence of the nearly-continuous feedback he received from it, Prowl could feel a different answer in his spark. Was this what Ratchet meant by learning to value what his logic center did not?

Realizing that Jazz was staring at him curious, Prowl quickly spoke up. "No, it doesn't seem wrong to me, Jazz, and it shouldn't seem wrong to you. At least when it comes from me."

Instantly Jazz dropped the act. "Of course, Prowl. I would never seriously expect you to change. Even if we do end up communicating more openly, I wouldn't expect you to do the same for everyone else."

Relief washed over Prowl. Jazz and that other mech were the same in many regards, and yet none of those similarities seemed to matter. Would that be the critical difference? Could Prowl be close to Jazz and trust himself to never hurt Jazz, just as Jazz promised that Prowl could trust that Jazz would never hurt him? "Perhaps I really do need to listen to my logic center less," Prowl mused; unaware he'd spoken the last part aloud.

"Huh?" Jazz looked at Prowl strangely.

"What?"

"You just said that you need to list to your logic center less. You feeling okay, Prowl? Did Ratchet do something to you?" Jazz was almost worried about the uncharacteristic comment that came out from nowhere.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, he did. But I'm starting to think it was the right call – don't tell him that." Prowl thought back on everything that had happened and how his logic center had guided him through it. That internal report generated after ConAir's attack was the perfect example. He had chosen the equipment's logic and its answers above his own because he had come to rely on it for every aspect of his life, even for things it had no true knowledge about. Prowl remembered that he'd valued the report because it was the first one the logic center could generate on its own in these matters, afraid that his own edits to the parameters might contaminate the results.

Contaminate the results by including his personal input? Had he truly allowed the logic center to 'warp' him so much, as Ratchet said, that he would classify his own input as contamination? Especially in matters like this? The avoidance of others, the attack on his ex-lover, and his solidarity were all brought on by his logic center's concept of truth and logical choices. Did he have his own answers, his own truth, or did he leave even that to the logic center?

Jazz had meant so much more to him than anyone else. How could he hurt him? Prowl looked down to see Jazz's hand resting comfortably on Prowl's arm, something he hadn't even noticed before now. His logic center would deem this an unnecessary risk – that his response to Jazz's touch was a variable that could weaken his stability. Did Prowl really have that little of faith in himself, that he would chose to remain in place and allow life to pass by him because that's what the results said to do? Perhaps it was time to take control of his life and not remain passively in place, allowing decisions to be made for him.

"Jazz, there is something you need to know." Despite the gravity in Prowl's voice, Jazz was eager to move closer so Prowl had his full attention. "My sparklinghood was not normal, by any stretch of means. While I've never considered someone's sparklinghood an important factor before, I suspect this assumption has been inaccurate. For instance, I've had my logic center since early sparklinghood and Ratchet has informed me that can be… a life-altering upgrade."

Underneath his visor, Jazz's optics flew open. "Whoa, you mean – "

"Yes; I've had my logic center longer than the other tacticians you've worked with during this war, which probably explains a few things. Because of that I have come to rely on it as if it truly was a piece of me. My logic center has often informed me when it would be logical to keep quiet because there isn't a more logical action available. Now I'm beginning to consider the possibility that my decision to follow a piece of equipment was the real illogical decision. I can't promise that I won't fall back into old habits, but I would like to make my own decisions on living my life. I would very much like your help with the matter. That is, if you are willing to put up with my tendencies and our differences," Prowl was almost rigid with fear while he wanted for Jazz's reply to his – not his logic center's – request for Jazz to be a bigger part of his life.

Nearly overjoyed by the request, Jazz visibly peaked up as he grinned. "Of course, Prowl. You may be stubborn and difficult, but so am I and I love a good challenge." With a light laugh, Jazz nudged Prowl to show that he was only kidding about considering Prowl a challenge.

"Thank you, Jazz." A small smile appeared as Prowl listened to Jazz's warm laugh.

"Not a problem, Prowl. But may I make a suggestion on what to start with?"

"Of course."

"You might want to patch things up with your brothers. Especially Bluestreak."

Internally Prowl grimaced. "I had forgotten how far I'd pushed him away since onlining. I hope I haven't caused too much damage."

"I doubt it. Blue loves ya too much."

"That's true, he does," Prowl mused before something else caught his attention. "Wait – why do you think I need to patch things up with Smokescreen as well?"

"Uh, well, it's not something you've done, per say…" Jazz laughed again, feeling a bit awkward as he stumbled with his words as he tried to tactfully explain his comment. "It's just, well, uh… well let me answer that question with another question I've had for like the last joor: why haven't you asked me how I knew that Blacksmoke's name meant anything to you?"

Dumb folded by having completely missed that suspicious piece of fact, given that the only Cybertronians that knew his relation to Blacksmoke were long since deactivated, Prowl stared back. "I can't believe I overlooked that. Perhaps I'm not so good without my logic center," Prowl weakly joked. "How did you know that about Blacksmoke?"

"Hey, you might be ten times better than your logic center if I wasn't throwing curve balls at you right after another operation. You can't always catch everything, you know, unless you're me." Jazz teased. "But seriously, you should talk to Smokescreen. He's the reason why I know that Blacksmoke was your sparker. Primus above, I honestly didn't know about the connection between you two before he blurted it out."

Stunned by the revelation that the family 'secret' wasn't restricted to just him and his creators, Prowl nearly stuttered, "What? How could he possibly know that?" Realization dawned on him as soon as the words left his vocalizer. "They spoke on the battlefield at the temple."

"Yeah, Blacksmoke pretty much died in Smokescreen's arms. Talk about messed up family dynamics. He's been more or less plagued by that and he needs to get it off his chest. Blue should know too. But uh, don't mention that I knew Blacksmoke outside of what Smokescreen told me. I figure its best to keep things on the DL for a while – at least until you've figured out what you want them to know." '_And no one is supposed to really know about him. How it was over looked that he was the sparker of the SIC I slagging don't know,_' Jazz grumbled as he thought about which incompetent worker in his division missed that information.

"Why does Bluestreak need to know as well?"

"Remember how you said that your family had expectations of you that you responded by pushing others away? Well, I think that you need to move past that and let Blue in, at least in that regard. All Blue wants is companionship and you telling him something personal would give him more than a simple apology ever could."

"I suppose. I should give him more than an apology, given how I've been acting. Somehow though, I suspect the conversation will be handled a little less well as this one has been, with the exception of a few rough patches."

"Kinda goes with the territory. Anyway, that's great. I know that Blue would love to talk to you. In fact, he's probably looking for you by now." Although Jazz wanted to stay longer, the thought of a worried Bluestreak running around base in a frantic search for Prowl stopped him from being selfish and keeping Prowl all to himself. "I guess I shouldn't hold you up any longer. The sooner you two talk the better." Jazz climbed out of the chair to leave.

"Wait!" Prowl stopped Jazz in mid-climb before he knew what he was saying. "Uh…" Prowl tried to find something to say to keep Jazz with him, but he couldn't think of anything. He had decided to fully reject that report from the attack but it also contained data that it had presented as signs of Jazz's affections for him. Should he fully reject the report? He was free to decide what he did with the information given to him.

"Jazz, why do you do all these things for me? Hunting me down on the battlefield to make sure I'm okay, rescuing me despite orders to not leave medbay, and now this. Why do you do these things?"

"Well because I care about you – since you are a friend. I mean, you are too much of an important friend for me to not do these things." Jazz weakly offered, trying not to put himself in a situation he wasn't sure how to handle.

"I see." Frowning, Prowl chewed over those words, trying to dissect them carefully. "An important friend… would you do these things for Blaster or Bumblebee?"

"What? I suppose… I dunno. I've never really thought about it."

"But you've made a point with me to do these things." Prowl pointed out.

"Uh, yeah, I guess…" Jazz was at a loss for words. He knew he wanted something special with Prowl but he didn't know exactly what or how far. What about the consequences? Just trying to compute all the different consequences hurt his head. Normally Jazz wasn't afraid of consequences, but there were some consequences too high even for him. Somehow pushing the limits with Prowl was too high for him while infiltrating Megatron's base to screw with the Decepticon army wasn't. '_Primus, I've got issues_.' Jazz mentally groaned. Maybe he should take his issues to another room and figure them out.

Prowl watched Jazz as the TIC silently tormented himself. Normally Jazz was a hard read, but he had been teaching Prowl had to read others for a while now. While Prowl was not good at it, he had built his learning experiences around Jazz. Right now he could tell Jazz was uncomfortable, but he couldn't tell how, why, or how much. Should he try building his own report and figure out if the old report was right? No, that would lead him right back to his old habits. Should he ask? Ask what? Prowl was plagued with ideas of how to deal with the tense moment only to realize all his ways relied on what he used to do. Everything he used to do often resulted in him doing nothing because he was being overly cautious, which was what put him in the predicament he was in now. '_Slag it, my head is actually starting to hurt. I'm tired of fighting myself and never doing anything._' Not giving himself another chance to second-guess his actions, Prowl used Ratchet's idea of trial by fire and leaned in to kiss Jazz.

Jazz was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't notice what Prowl was doing until he felt Prowl's lip components pressing down on his. His spark dropped to his peds before picking itself back up and pulsating erratically. Before Jazz could fully respond back, however, the fleeting kiss ended as Prowl pulled back.

Prowl stared back at Jazz as he tried to keep his doorwings from twitching while calming down his systems. "Am I that kind of friend?"

"Prowl, I do not kiss any of my friends!" At Prowl's quiet 'oh', however, Jazz quickly jumped in before Prowl could think the worst. "But I do know that you're the only friend I've thought about sneaking in a kiss."

"Really? You aren't just saying that to be courteous." Prowl was having trouble not second-guessing himself, even going so far as to second-guess Jazz.

"Pit no. Prowl, I wasn't sure what I wanted from you, and in some ways I still don't, but I know that I do want some more of that!" With a cheeky grin, Jazz leaned in, balancing his torso on the arm of the chair. "But I want it a little longer this time to enjoy the moment. You know me; I love to live for the moment." Smiling seductively, Jazz swept Prowl's lip components in a fiery kiss, refusing to let Prowl use his mouth to breath. Just as Prowl had taken a leap of faith, so had Jazz.

Prowl wasn't interested in stopping for air. Instead, he kissed Jazz back, matching the fierce passion with his own. Jazz's right hand reached out to steady himself against the back of the chair as his other hand reached up to caress the inside of Prowl's doorwing joint. A moan escaped from Prowl before he could stop it and the sound served to fuel Jazz's lust. He pushed Prowl backwards across the chair, barely letting the Praxian's doorwings pass over the chair's arm to escape from being pinned down. Prowl reached into a seam on Jazz's hip and fondled the cables beneath the armor to even the playing field. Jazz's leg buckled and his torso fell down on top of Prowl.

The Porsche scrambled to move into a better position, sliding his legs between Prowl's as he nipped the Datsun's tense neck cables. Prowl's arm shot out, searching for Jazz's audio receptors and caressed the sensitive places. The overwhelming feedback drove Jazz into a frenzy and he pushed Prowl down harder to fondle the tactician's doorwings. He turned on the magnetic sensors in his hands and immediately Prowl started twitching. Moments after Prowl had pratically convulsed with pleasure, Jazz heard a muffled 'mmph!' from where his shoulder was pressed into Prowl's face, followed by Prowl's arms shooting forward to push him away. A cracking noise echoed in his audios and Prowl's neck suddenly started slipping away from Jazz's mouth. '_Huh?_' he wondered, still in a static haze, before he felt Prowl frantically attempts to push him away double, only to realize what Prowl wanted too late.

CRACK! The arm of the chair that Prowl had been heavily pinned against broke and crumpled beneath the combined body weight of the two mechs. Jazz moved away awkwardly and looked down at Prowl, who was bent backward in the most uncomfortable position. "Uh, sorry?"

Prowl waved him off, trying to pull his senses together. He was looking up at an awkward angle and the tips of his doorwings were scraping the floor. Plus his knees were bent almost painfully with Jazz still resting his lower half on Prowl's hips, although it probably couldn't be avoided since one of his legs had somehow ended up trapped between Prowl's left leg. Before Prowl could kindly ask Jazz to get off of him an angry hail interrupted him. An angry hail coming from none other than Ratchet.

"Uh, I hope that wasn't too far," Jazz asked, unaware of Ratchet's hail.

"Give me a moment, please. I mean, it wasn't, but Ratchet is hailing me, and it seems he's having one of his infamous tantrums. I guess I should be glad it all went wrong at the same time for once, unlike the other times we tried being around each other, if nothing else." Prowl took a deep breath to steady himself. He opened the hail as Jazz pulled him upright in the chair. ::Yes, Ratchet?::

::Do you know what those creator-fragging twins did to each other? They – frag them! I don't want to get into the details, or I'll end up having to stop so I can strangle them again! Let's just say that I'm staring at the result of Sunstreaker mocking Sideswipe for something that happened outside in the hallway about a joor ago. Now they are in pieces, bleeding everywhere, and snarling at each other like hungry Decepticons fighting over a single cube of high-grade! I'm tired of their crap. I need to get a nice long break from it, so I've devised a foolproof plan. I just need to know if I can give Hoist the go ahead to end our suffering.::

::The go ahead to what, Ratchet?::

::Well, it seems that Hoist ran out of orange paint some time ago to repair all the walls from Sideswipe's prank earlier this month. Since I'm staring at pieces of red and yellow armor, I figured I could make some use out of them and the larger pieces – and by that I mean Fragger No.1 and Fragger No. 2 – and get Hoist some supplies. What do you think, Prowl? Can I squeeze the two of them together and see if I can get some orange paint out of their yellow and red hides? Unless you really wanna stare at brown splotchy walls for the next decaorn.::

::Erm, Ratchet - ::

::Oh, right. That would interfere with Jazz's punishment over what Sideswipe said to you. Maybe he'll want in on this since he still hasn't finished punishing Sideswipe.::

Prowl looked back towards the incredibly-close saboteur. "You want in on this conversation? It concerns Sideswipe."

"Sure, what the pit," Jazz sighed. Jazz linked into the hail via Prowl's invitation. ::Your beloved Jazzman's here. What's up Ratchet? I hear that Sideswipe has been added again to your list of mechs to torture?::

::Yeah, I want to crush him and his twin and see if we can get some supplies out of their hides. How's that sound?::

::Too short-lived for my taste. I like to spend at least an orn pointing and laughing when I hand down my punishments, and it sounds like Sideswipe wouldn't be conscious long enough.::

::Well then snap to it and deliver your punishment! I want mine and I want it soon. Prowl, how long does it take for all of this paperwork to get through? I don't want to wait an astrosecond longer than I have to!:: Ratchet demanded.

Prowl groaned and looked back at Jazz, or namely, Jazz's lip components. A mischievous smile broke across his face. ::I'm sorry Ratchet, but you haven't cleared me for any duty. I'm concerned that your hypothesis may have some merit, and since your hypothesis states that my ability to even function correctly has been impaired, that makes me unfit for even the most basic duties of my position. I can't help you until I've completed your orders.::

An angry cry erupted across both Jazz's and Prowl's comlinks as Ratchet tore into Prowl. ::You Pit-spawned, fragging son-of-a-snow-blower! You choose now of all orns to finally listen to me? Scrap you! I want to see fear and panic in their faces and I won't settle for anything less than tonight! I had plans and now they are all wasted because Sunstreaker hurt Sideswipe's feelings and they decided to resolve their issues by pounding each other in various pieces of furniture!::

::That is unfortunate, Ratchet. You could always try easier punishments so that Ironhide could complete the paperwork in my absence. Why don't you try the pink dress idea you had and see if you were right about the reaction?:: Prowl suggested before cutting the link when another rant exploded from Ratchet. Prowl smiled faintly and looked at Jazz, who had the most curious expression on his face. "Is something the matter?"

"Well no, but I was wondering about the pink dress thing from just now?"

"Oh, that. Ratchet made a comment earlier where he used Sideswipe as a reference."

"Um, okay…" Jazz stared blankly at Prowl longer. "And how does the pink dress fit in with Sideswipe?"

"He was comparing the stupidity of one idea with the idea of asking Sideswipe to 'put on a pink fluffy dress and dance to Disney songs,' as I recall." It was Prowl's turn to be the curious one when Jazz didn't say anything at first. A devious smirk slowly crept along the Porsche's face. "Jazz, what are you thinking?" Prowl asked carefully.

Jazz's smirk bloomed into a demon-like grin, complete with a dark chuckle. "Oh nothing really. It just suddenly occurs to me that I have a few more joors to complete the paperwork on Sideswipe's punishment and I know a human designer who owes me a favor. Plus I seem to remember Carly saying something about how her baby cousin was having a 'Pretty Pretty Princess' party and the entertainment fell through."

Grinning at Jazz's diabolic plan, Prowl stole another kiss from Jazz. However, he broke it off as things began to get heating again when a caution alert popped into the corner of his vision. "It appears our activities have drained most of my remaining energy levels."

"Oh." Disappointed, Jazz untangled himself from Prowl and pulled the mech fully upright. "I suppose I should let you get some rest then, especially if you should stick to whatever Ratchet has planned."

"What was that about earlier then, when you said 'slag my nap?' I thought you were a mech of your words." Prowl teased as he stood up and stretched his back, trying to loosen the kinks from the accident that destroyed half a chair.

"Hey, I am. It was true then because I wanted to talk, not sleep."

"Well what about now?" Prowl replied playfully as he moved towards the berth.

Shocked, Jazz stammered at the usually-stoic mech. "Prowl? I still don't know what we are, but I didn't think you were that kind of mech – at least not this early!"

"Jazz, I'm not, although not because I'm rigid about taking things slow. I don't know what we are either, but I would like to figure it out in time. Our lives are not as short as the humans; we don't need labels right now. For now all I want is to rest. But it would be nice to have someone to rest with… to make sure that no one disrupts my recharge, of course." Prowl added as he sat down on the berth.

Jazz laughed at Prowl's words, amused at Prowl's request that he keep his romantic interest out of harm's way. "Yeah, I can watch over you and keep you safe." '_Maybe for more orns than this one_,' Jazz silently added. As he lay down by Prowl, making sure to give the mech room, Jazz couldn't help but feel enthralled with the moment more than any other moments he'd spent with his other friends. He knew that he wanted to spend more time with Prowl and this felt like right. "Feels like fate," Jazz murmured as he mused about the feeling.

"What?" Prowl, who was already half-powered down, activated his optics to look at Jazz.

"Nothing really. This just feels comfortable, almost like it was the right thing to do. As if this is what fate intended all along."

"Fate. That's what you said back in the park."

"Guess I got it right then, perhaps?" Jazz grinned as he lightly traced the outline of Prowl's doorwing.

"Jazz, I told you then that I didn't believe in fate and I still don't."

"Mmhmm, okay, Prowler. We'll see." Jazz smiled softly as Prowl powered down with a barely-audible 'don't call me that.' After Prowl was completely in recharge, Jazz wrapped his arms around the offline mech and resting his head on Prowl's back. "We'll see, Prowl. Perhaps I'll teach you to believe in fate."

~*~FIN~*~

* * *

Yes! Freedom! Except that I'm planning a sequel XD It won't be happening though for a while, since my plan is to write the whole rough draft and then post it as I polish each chapter. That way, I'm not doing 3 rough drafts (I had like 4 or 5 for this ending before I finally liked one), send it to Evil Ratchet, and then incorporate all her crit before I finally post one chapter. That was way too long and doing it the new way would cut it down to like 2-4 weeks between chapters (Evil Ratchet got herself a much more demanding life and I'd like to be considerate of that, especially since I like her :D ). I do plan to post a Lambo fic before that, although they will probably be written in parallel since I'm kinda excited about it. But I can't be just a PxJ writer ;)

Much love for Evil Ratchet, renegadewriter8, Hiding In My Writing, Darklog73, SecretSnow, Got Buttermilk, Gatekat, Kai-Chan94, DramaStar-Mel, iNsAnE nO bAkA, OrianPrim92, taralynden, Deathcomes4u, Rubyswordsmaster, Optimus Bob, ShadowedBlossom, creepy-wolf, won't be the Victim, Sailormoon20114486, Krypticated! Buttermilk, I'm sorry I wasn't able to give Blue and Prowl a real moment, but I couldn't fit it in very well :( I did put what's in there just for you, and I can always put more in the sequel ;)

I would really appreciate any feedback for future writing! Obviously the time thing was bad, and there were several plans I ended up dropping because of how far I'd already stretched this (another reason to complete the rough draft first), and that caused a few plot mistakes. But I know there are more than just those things, so any help would be loved.

I'll leave you with a summary of the title-less sequel to decide if you want to watch for it towards the end of this year (yeah, I know that's late, but let's be practical. And honest – I'm shooting for end of this year, but January is a total possibility):

A few decaorns after the Autobots recover from the last Decepticon battle, Jazz and Prowl start to explore the idea of serious relationship. As they talk about what's happened, Prowl asks a seemingly-innocent question regarding Smokescreen's story for how he met Blacksmoke: Why would Blacksmoke show up at the funeral to look for Juniper after hundreds of vorns? Curious what one of his most underground Special Ops mech was doing, Jazz decides to look into the matter only to realize that Blacksmoke was trying to tell a trusted comrade outside of the Special Ops about a dark secret in Jazz's own organization.

During his investigation, one of Jazz's trusted advisors on Cybertron learns that Blacksmoke had a sparkling. Unfortunately, Jazz discovers too late that his trusted advisor was the one that Blacksmoke had been trying to warn Juniper about. His advisor doesn't feel comfortable with Jazz's investigation or the possibility that Blacksmoke's sparkling may know something, so he decides to set the plan in motion – a plan that capitalizes on Jazz's biggest fears and one of Blacksmoke's: the harm of his sparkling.


End file.
